Ice Cream and Coding
by fiction over reality
Summary: AU non-magical Drarry slash story. University life where Harry and Ron are roommates, studying game design, and Hermione lives on campus, studying information systems. They're 20. Harry doesn't know he's gay until he finds Draco, who turns out to be his algorithms tutor and teaches him coding.
1. Cabbages and Face Wash

He shrugged his shoulder bag off and looked in the mirror as it slid to the ground. The mirror in the dining area wasn't completely flat and so his reflection was slightly thinner than he was, its features marginally more stretched out, and overall a more interesting Harry than he himself could ever hope to be. His wavy neck-length hair that had finally fallen into his eyes one too many times was tied off into a small pony tail and his thick-rimmed dark purple glasses hid his eyebrows, which he wasn't too fond of, quite well. He thought that the glasses made his nose look too big, but contacts were simply out of the question; they were too much work.

He lifted his shirt to look at his stomach. Even in this mirror where everything became thinner he could still see the fat in his waist and gut. Why was it so hard to quit ice cream? Pulling it back down, he looked back at his face and scrunched his nose at the oiliness of it. He grabbed his face wash from the bedroom he shared with Ron and went to wash the sun screen off his face.

He heard the front door bang shut and knew Ron had finally managed to lock the gate. It was always a struggle and they took turns locking it. It was in bad need of greasing and groaned and moaned every inch it moved, if it moved at all. They even tried reasoning and bargaining with it.

"The damn bird is at it again," Ron called from the entry way. "I especially love how it goes an octave higher every time it screeches."

"It's having an orgasm," Harry joked, turning the tap off. "Leave it be."

"Why does it have to do it right outside our bedroom, though?" Ron complained. "More importantly, why don't we have soundproof windows?"

"It's just a rental," Harry reminded him. "Another few months and we'll be outta here."

"Gone like the wind," Ron muttered.

It was the second apartment unit they'd lived in together since university had started. It could be called an improvement. Though improvement was kind of a stretch, Harry thought, as he glanced down at the water trapped in the clogged bathroom sink. The state of the house was a very good representation of the mess their lives were, he supposed. Though it was far better than living at his uncle's, and so he wasn't complaining. Living the student life was a dream. Cold showers and all included.

"Spicy or chicken noodles?" Ron asked, having moved to the kitchen. Harry stepped out of the bathroom, taking the face wash back to their room. Living with housemates meant keeping everything inside their bedroom and that wasn't so different from living at his uncle's, but he still occasionally forgot things outside. That was still better than Ron who forgot to turn off lights or close doors, though.

"One spicy, one chicken," Harry replied.

"The usual, then," Ron acknowledged as he struggled with the plastic packets. Harry went over and grabbed a pot to fill with water.

"Any cabbage left?" He asked Ron hopefully.

"I think so. Check the fridge," Ron said, finally having opened the bag of noodles. "Don't we ever get tired of eating the same thing?"

"Tradition is a thing of beauty," Harry replied with his head in the fridge. "Also we're running low on money."

Most of their money came from doing other people's assignments or finding freelancing jobs online, but during their own midterms and assignment submission times they didn't have much time to do either so a diet of cheap noodles and vegetables was what they lived on. However, Ron still munched on all the chocolate and nuts he could find despite the money problems. Harry couldn't understand how he could bear to not worry about all the break outs. He couldn't judge though. For a twenty year old, his own ice cream addiction was just as bad.

During their richer times, they used their oven to bake. They'd experiment with cookies, cupcakes, and even made cakes for their friends' birthdays. They usually turned out good, but the oven was a strong one and figuring out the time and temperature to bake with was tricky. Still, it was a hobby they both enjoyed. Their friends joked and called them a married couple sometimes, but they usually shut up when they had a box of cookies thrust into their hands.

They had started sharing a room together after Ron missed one of his final exams, thinking it was the day after it actually was. He was always showing up to classes late too, finding it hard to wake up on time. Harry vowed to be his alarm clock and to save money they became roommates. In the first house they took a small room, with a window that opened to the inside of the building and got no sunlight. It was good because it was a ten-minute walking distance from their university and they could come back between classes and nap. It was bad because they napped all the time and got no studying done. After their six month contract was up they moved, having too many neighbours that partied until the early hours of the morning with loud music that shook their entire room.

This house was quieter. They were in the middle room this time, with windows that opened to the park outside and got plenty of sunlight. Their walls were light purple, their bed sheet orange, their shelves pink, their wardrobe dark brown. It was an eye sore, but it was home. They were both good at compromise and living together worked better than well. They shared grocery money, cooked together, slept on a queen sized bed together and even though Ron kicked in his sleep Harry was a heavy sleeper so it worked out alright. They were in the same course and studied together, grouped together for assignments, even chose new friends together. They knew each other's bad habits and secrets, knew what to do to cheer the other one up, would go out walking at all hours of the night when they couldn't sleep, and would procrastinate together watching series or anime.

They were perfect best friends and no matter how shitty the house they lived in was, they both knew that it was alright because what mattered most was their friendship.

"Is it ready yet?" Ron looked over Harry's shoulder into the boiling pot. "I'm starved."

"Give it another five minutes," Harry replied, stirring dutifully.

"But the cabbages will be gross and soggy by then," Ron groaned.

"Fine. Grab the bowls," Harry gave in. His own stomach was growling.

"Early morning classes are the worst," Ron commented, handing a bowl to Harry.

"If you only woke up early enough to eat breakfast, we wouldn't be having this problem," Harry reminded him.

"You wake up early and eat breakfast. Are you telling me you're not dying for some food right now?" Ron poked Harry in the ribs, moving to put food into his own bowl.

"Okay, okay, I'm starved too," Harry admitted. "Plus I like being the first to shower in the morning. I get ALL the hot water."

"Do you magically install the water boiler every morning and then hide it away by the time I wake up?" Run looked ashen. "Where is this hot water coming from?"

"I wish," Harry sang. "If only there was magic."

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "Our life wouldn't be such a pain, then."

Harry nodded and spooned noodles and soup into his bowl. Ron had taken most of the cabbages, and he had to fish in the soup for the little that there was left. They sat at their small dining table and ate the noodles hot, burning their mouths and not caring. It was a small house, but a family house and comfortable. There were sofas everywhere and each wall was painted a different shade of orange. The big balcony opened to the park outside and there weren't as many bugs sharing their living space. It was a very clean house; they all shared chores like a family. Ron was in charge of cleaning the bathroom, Harry in taking out the trash. He was kind of bad at his chore, even though it was the simplest. It was hard to remember to take out the trash, especially since he had to walk down two floors and to the end of the street to dispose of it. It usually sat there for days, becoming overly full and heavy. Usually he had to be reminded by their housemate, which was the person whose aunt owned the house they were all living in, so it was a bit embarrassing to be scolded by him about remembering the only chore he had.

He did all kinds of chores when he stayed at his uncle's, but living in the first house with Ron had undone all his years of working. Their first house used to be messy and dirty all the time, only getting clean when one of the housemates got fed up and decided to clean the whole house out. It usually was a whole day commitment, and only happened once every month. The chore that he did like was washing the dishes, and he would wash any and all dirty dishes in the sink even if they weren't his. Ron was fonder of doing laundry, and so it was up to him to announce the laundry day and throw the clothes into the washing machine. Harry still didn't have the faintest idea of how to work the machine; he hadn't touched it in the five months that they'd been living here.

They managed to finish their noodles and drink the soup, burning their mouths even more, and Harry went off to wash their bowls. Ron went to make himself hot chocolate, and all the while they argued about answers on their midterm paper. It was funny how even though they usually got different questions right, they mostly ended up with the same results. It was only during their final exams that Harry would do better than Ron and get a higher overall mark for the semester.

Hermione always believed that they cheated in exams because they would get the same midterm results, and only by showing her the papers were they able to finally convince her otherwise. It was easy to cheat; almost everyone did, but be it laziness or actual integrity, Ron and Harry never had. They just didn't see the point of it. Exams weren't that important. At least, not to them. Hermione would disappear for weeks before exams and they wouldn't hear of her until they were over. She was quite serious when it came to scoring marks.

She had somehow become the final piece, making their duo friendship a trio, but quite sadly did not live with them. She stayed at the university's girls' hostel, which was a no-boy allowed space, and a five minute walk from the university. It was cheap and close to classes, and Hermione refused to live far from campus. They had her on Skype when their Wi-Fi speed actually allowed it. All in all, Harry couldn't have been luckier in the friends department.

The romance department, now that was debatable. He couldn't stay in a relationship for any longer than a couple of months. His extensive collection of sad songs vouched for that. It was still better than Ron, who had never been in a relationship in his entire life, or Hermione, whose boyfriends always turned out to be completely nuts. But then there were his other friends who were in four-year relationships or already getting married at age 19 and it made him want to have something like that so badly. What made things harder was how their course was filled with 95% guys. Girls weren't that interested in studying Game Design, apparently. Hermione was having the time of her life, though. Her course, Information Systems, was mainly a guy-concentrated course too.

Harry had thought of having campaigns to make girls study computers many times. It was a real problem. It would help if he'd been gay. The gayest he'd ever gotten was watching gay porn. It was slightly arousing, but then again, most porn was, so he didn't read much into that. The only guy he'd ever found himself attracted to was this blond that had been a friend of one of their old housemates. He'd been over at their house one time when Harry and Ron came back from classes, and those piercing grey eyes had made Harry's heart beat so fast that he had even forgotten to say hello. He still had no idea who that was. He knew he studied in the same university, but he wasn't sure if he even wanted to find him. What would he say to him anyway? It was all quite silly.

Something silly that he thought about quite often, even though it had already been more than seven months.


	2. Chocolate Waffles and Hot Showers

It was the new semester and internship had started. Harry and Ron had found positions in two different companies, and since Neville, another friend of theirs, lived right next to Harry's company, Harry was staying with him for the duration of their internship period. Ron had asked Ginny to stay with him for the same three months so that he could share the rent with her instead of making Harry pay his half. Even though he felt bad for leaving Ron alone to live with his sister knowing that it would surely ensue in many a fight, Harry was having the time of his life.

He was staying with Neville for free, not paying Ron half of the rent and utilities, and his internship company was paying him well. For the first time in his life, he had money to spare. Neville's house being within walking distance of his work place, Harry did not even need to pay any transport fee. Furthermore, his company had a fully stocked pantry from which he could take fruits, biscuits, tea, coffee, milk, and water for free. He had never been so well fed or hydrated in his entire life. His favourite were the chocolate biscuits. He had a glass of milk and around five chocolate biscuits every evening. They made him so happy. Apparently, they were called chocolate waffles. The pantry had around six big biscuit containers that always got filled with a new type of biscuit once they finished, but one of the most popular ones that always stayed was the chocolate waffles. Harry couldn't be happier. He ate the crumbs and his fingers with it. The chocolate biscuits were what got him through long boring days or days that he hadn't gotten enough sleep and he felt like bailing on work. Just waiting till evening to get his chocolate waffles were what made it all worthwhile. To be honest, he no longer cared about pimples. He could finally understand Ron's side of things.

The office followed flexi hours and the only thing he needed to abide to was being in the office from 11 in the morning till at least 4 in the afternoon, excluding lunch hour, and that he had to work 40 hours a week. Another bonus was that the dress code was casual. It all suited Harry well and fine, and after working there for a month, he was offered a permanent position after graduation as everyone loved working with him. He was told that he was smart, passionate, and quite frankly too responsible for his age. All attributes he'd earned due to studying the course he loved and having the secret desire to always please everyone, he supposed.

He had nothing to complain about. Some days, his colleagues took him out for lunch with them. If he was just with one person, they usually paid his share besides taking care of transport. Other days, he'd stay in the office and have them order take out for him. Sometimes he even cooked at home and brought the food with him for his lunch. He didn't feel self-conscious leaving it in the fridge and heating it up in the office microwave later, because many people did the same thing.

Put in a word, he felt free. He'd secured his future by finding a job in a field he loved, with all the rules that didn't constrict him and let him work as he liked. He even got the weekends and public holidays off. Ron's company wasn't as impressive as his, but Ron was shining too. It was funny how they'd been almost average students but had shown themselves to be one of the best employees. Hermione had decided to stay in university this semester because they were offering some subjects that she liked to take before the chance disappeared and had postponed her internship to the next semester, which Harry thought was quite unfair because then she'd be able to use their experiences and not make the same mistakes as well as know which companies were worth applying for. He supposed it was smart of her to want to do research through her friends before getting herself into a company that turned out to be not as good as advertised, but he hated being a test subject. He'd stayed up with Ron a few nights, fantasizing about giving her all kinds of mixed and erroneous information.

Although he was having the time of his life, these days it was hard to get a hold of any of his friends. Everyone was either busy with internship, himself included, or was in the middle of midterm exams and assignment submissions in university. The only person he got to see a lot of was Neville, and even though Neville was a good kid, he did love to talk too much, especially when Harry was in the middle of watching one of his shows or reading a manga. Neville seemed to take Harry putting in his earphones or picking up a book as the queue to start talking. He was quite unaware of his surroundings and reading the mood and Harry could live with that, but sometimes he just needed his privacy. Long gone were the good old days when he could pop in his earphones and code a few programs just for the heck of it. Ron used to get it because he was the same, a privacy-loving good old fashioned bloke. Now if he so much as looked at a computer after getting out of work, Neville would start warning him about using his eyes too much. It was true that he stared at the computer screen all day at work and that his eye sight was being affected. He even got some bad headaches every few days. But he couldn't help it. It was his life and his choices, and he just wished Neville wouldn't fret over him so much.

Harry sighed. If he had to choose between a great job and close living quarters and his best friend, he'd pick Ron every time. He was somewhat jealous of Ron, to be honest, because Ron had gotten an attentive supervisor from their university while Harry's supervisor replied to his emails with 'tq's if at all. He missed daydreaming with Ron about opening a bakery together. They'd planned on a two-story house, making the first floor a bakery with recipe's from all over the world and the upstairs a comfortable place where they could live and do freelance programming as much as they liked. He missed their longs walks at one in the morning and just aimlessly going around stumbling upon new places like fresh fruit markets that were ridiculously cheap, fresh, and open twenty-four seven, which was perfect for students like them that got out early in the mornings and didn't get home till late at night. He missed their jogs together and how Ron was always faster but neither of them minded cause as long as they were running the same track and begun and ended together they felt like they were going through it together.

Besides that, the living conditions were much better with Neville. His parents rented him a studio apartment, which he'd divided into three parts using his own furniture. The first part from the entrance was the kitchen, with a cozy little dining table for four and a mini fridge. He even had a blender, water boiler, and rice cooker. Harry was impressed at how much furniture a guy his age owned, when Ron and him owned almost nothing and always rented fully furnished houses. After the kitchen was the living room, with a two-person leather couch and a soft black fluffy carpet under the fan. Beyond the living room was the third and final part of the studio apartment: the bedroom. Two back to back wardrobes became a three-quarters wall that separated the living room from the bedroom. They were filled to the brim with Neville's clothes, Harry's only barely squeezed in between.

Instead of a bed, they only had a queen-sized mattress that was placed on the ground. Its springs were acting out and sleeping on it required some adjusting and body positioning to ensure that their backs weren't pressed against any of the more painful springs. Besides the mattress was a bedside table and the only other thing in the bedroom area was the full-body mirror. The bedroom led to the bathroom, which had scorching hot water all times of day but sadly no bath tub. However, it was the first time that Harry's house had hot water in almost a year and so he took full advantage of it. Sometimes he showered both in the mornings and at night, regardless of not being dirty. They even had a new and gorgeous gym. Neville and he went sometimes, Neville using the bike and Harry running on the treadmill. He still wasn't sure why Neville wasn't asking for rent and loved having him there so much. He was a pretty lonely guy, it seemed to Harry. Sometimes they went out walking at night, and Neville would tell Harry all kinds of stories that seemed to have been bottled up inside him. Harry felt bad being the only friend that Neville could talk to this way, because it felt like Neville needed him so much more than he did Neville, and it just didn't feel balanced. Sometimes he felt like he was taking advantage of Neville, staying over at his house for free and not even really enjoying their talks because it was always Neville who talked and him who listened. Nothing about their friendship felt balanced or right and Harry just couldn't wait for the three months to be over so that he could move back in with Ron.

But his guilt ate him alive. To make up for his feelings of taking advantage of Neville, he cooked, cleaned, and made sure to be attentive to any of Neville's needs. He didn't even complain when he woke up most days with Neville's arms wrapped around him. Neville was in a long-distance relationship with a girl who lived eight hours of airtime away from them and they only got to see each other quite rarely. Neville confessed to him that he hadn't seen her in more than a year now and that he was paying for her ticket here in a couple of months because he couldn't take it anymore.

To Harry, their relationship didn't sound healthy, but he didn't feel like it was his place to tell Neville that. The girl was much older than Neville, and yet Neville was the one paying for most things. He was the one sending birthday gifts or any other special occasion's gift all the way to her while not only did she not get him anything, but she didn't even thank him properly. Most of their talks on skype just sounded abusive to Harry. But it looked like Neville was head over hills in love and happy, so Harry kept his thoughts to himself. Especially after finding out that they'd been together for three years, and that she'd bought him a ring as an engagement. Neville liked to tell Harry about how they would get married after he finished his studies and how nervous he was about it all but how right it felt. Harry still had his doubts, though. The girl's family didn't know a thing about Neville's existence, and nor did any of her friends. Neville said it was because he was younger than her and she was a very private person, and that it would all work out when they got married.

Harry wasn't so sure. But then again, what did he know about relationships?

Frankly, he was kind of worried about Neville. According to Neville, Harry was his closest friend and the only one he could talk to. In the past month, he'd gotten used to running to Harry with any problem he had and Harry would solve it for him or give him reassurances. He helped Neville with his assignments and writing essays or presentations. He felt like Neville had become too dependent on him and wasn't sure what would happen when internship ended in two months and he'd move out. What would Neville do then? Harry knew himself. He knew that he wasn't a sociable person and he'd probably not pick up the phone if Neville called and he'd never come all the way out here from his house to just tend to Neville's problems if he wasn't living with him anymore.

It just felt like he was always causing those around him pain and trouble. He could never get it right. He'd either neglect them by not helping them in their time of need, or he'd help them too much so that they'd never do anything on their own anymore and become too dependent on him. It seemed that there was no middle ground with him.

He'd never been as happy as he was during internship, but he'd never been as depressed as he was while living with Neville.


	3. Sushi and Night Drives

Neville flew his fiancé out. Harry went back to stay at his uncle's house for a two-week period so that Neville and his fiancé had the studio apartment to themselves. He drove forty minutes to and fro every day but it was still bliss being away from Neville's endless chattering. However, just as peace was settling back into his life, Neville showed up at his internship company in tears.

"She left, Harry," Neville sobbed when Harry went downstairs to meet him in private. "I just dropped her off at the airport."

"Okay," said Harry slowly. It had only been five days.

"No, you don't understand," Neville sobbed hysterically. "We've been at the airport for four days now, waiting for someone to cancel their flight so a seat would open up and she could leave."

"Did something happen?" Harry asked, fearing the worst. Somehow, deep down, he'd known the moment Neville called him down with that tone.

"I didn't cry in front of her. Not one tear. Not a single tear, Harry." Neville rambled on.

"But what's happened?" asked Harry a little more impatiently.

"She left me. She said it's better if she leaves now. That it's better for me. For my future. She said I deserve better than her. That she's only thinking about my future. She only flew here to tell me in person that she was breaking up with me for my own good. I don't know why. I don't know what's changed. We were engaged Harry. We've been together for three years. And now she suddenly realizes that she's not good for my future? Oh, Harry, what do I do?" Neville cried.

Harry rubbed Neville's arm in silence. What was there to say? That he'd known all along that she'd been playing with Neville? No. This was not the time. When all their friends found out, that's what they would all say to Neville. He couldn't do that to him. He'd just listen, and support, and carry Neville's weight for a little while.

"What do I do, Harry?" Neville asked again. "I can't go to that house again. Every moment she was there she wanted to leave. Her phone would ring and she'd run out of the house to answer it. No, sprint is a better word for it. Like I was worse than a stranger. I cooked for her. I said nothing and I acted like everything was normal. She got off the plane and she broke up with me and I didn't even cry a single tear in front of her. We slept together at night like everything was fine and during the day we camped at the airport.

"What do I do now? What do I do without her? I can't do this. I can't do this without her. I tried to hold it together in front of her so she wouldn't know how badly she'd broken me. Do you know what she said? She said she'd known I'd be strong, that I'd react this way. She said she'd known I'd understand and be sensible. The whole time I was breaking inside and she thought I was fine with it because I didn't show any of it.

"Was that wrong? Should I have done it differently? What did I do wrong? Am I so unlovable? I did everything for her. I fought for her. I gave her everything. I sent her gifts, I remembered all the right occasions. I supported her financially from my family's money when she didn't have a single penny. I starved myself so that she could eat. I made her better. She always lives in her head and worries about everything and I made all that better. She has nothing without me. Why did she leave, Harry? What do I do? Where do I go? How do I breathe?"

"Okay," said Harry, trying to calm him down. "Okay. We'll figure this out."

"I can't go home. I can't. Can't you take the rest of the day off? Please? I can't be alone right now."

Harry cursed inside. He was buried in work.

"I really can't, Neville. It's just two more hours. Can you wait two hours?"

"Take me somewhere I can sit," Neville begged. "Somewhere with internet and a power plug. Do you have your laptop? I'll wait for you."

"Yes, alright," agreed Harry. "I'll grab my laptop from the office and take you to the food court. Okay? Hold on."

"I'll be here," sniffled Neville.

Harry ran up the two flights of stairs, grabbed his laptop, and ran back.

"Sorry, I'm just an intern here, I can't exactly take you upstairs."

"It's fine, Harry. Thanks for being here. I don't know what I would have done otherwise."

Harry lead Neville to the food court, listening to him retell the story of the breakup and go through his existential questions again. He plugged in his laptop there with Neville and went back to the office. Deep down, he felt disgusted with himself for it. His friend was sitting out there depressed, and he was worried about work. He bit his lip and wondered when he'd become such a work-concentrated person. It wasn't even official work, it was just internship.

He messaged Hermione, explaining the situation to her, and begged her to come to the Starbucks near them to meet Neville and be with him. If anyone was good at trashing someone's ex and making them feel on top of the world, it was her. He then told Neville to go to the Starbucks and meet Hermione. They weren't that close, but these kinds of situations always bring people together.

After he got off work, it started raining cats and dogs and he got drenched walking to Starbucks. He felt like he kind of deserved that. Hermione had her arms around Neville and he was crying but also smiling. He had a cup of hot coffee in his hands and was listening to Hermione instruct him on burning all of his exes pictures.

"Heyo," He called out to Neville.

"Hiyo," Neville replied with a shaky smile.

Harry bent down and put one arm around Neville. "How are you holding up?"

"Better now. More angry than sad."

"Isn't that always a better alternative," Hermione giggled.

"Okay, let's get out of here, I'm drenched," Harry complained.

"Don't you want a drink? Sit with us for a while," Hermione begged. "We're talking about breakup rituals."

"I'd hate to miss that," Harry teased. "Okay, maybe a cup of spearmint tea."

"You know you only get that because it's the cheapest option," Hermione said.

"No, the cheapest option is the free cup of water they give me," Harry corrected. "But it's a bit nippy, so I'll go for the next cheapest, thanks," he winked at her.

He got his tea and sat with them, looking at wedding dresses from Pakistan. They were such vivid greens and reds, and according to Hermione, the most gorgeous wedding dresses in all the universe. Harry knew Hermione meant well sharing it with Neville, but he could see Neville's eyes begging to be taken away from any wedding-related talk. Hermione's mother was in the business of designing wedding dresses, and Hermione was probably just trying to boast about her as always, not really thinking about how weddings were the last thing Neville wanted to think about for a long time.

"Well, if I sit under the air-con any longer I'll catch my death," Harry said loudly. "We're off. Thanks for all the encouraging talk, Hermione."

"I'll stay here a little longer, I think."

"Alrightie. Let's go Neville."

"Bye, Hermione."

"Ta!"

Harry pulled Neville up out of his seat and together they set off for the car. This was Neville's old car that they used for emergencies such as this. It was parked in the parking lot of their apartment which was a two-minute walk from the Starbucks.

It was almost 8 at night by then and Harry knew just the place to take Neville to.

"I have one word for you," Harry announced. "Sushi."

"Ooh. Let's," Neville licked his lips.

There was a discount for Sushi after eight at night, because they had to sell it or throw it. If you had the member card, they would sell it to you 50% off. If there was one thing that Neville loved more than sex, it was Sushi.

Harry bought four big packets, and they ate it on the ride back, as always. They bitched about relationships and exes and how idiotic everyone besides them was. And somehow Harry was able to make Neville laugh, and somehow that made everything a little better.

In the next few days, Neville did little more than watch sad movies and cry. Harry moved back in with him and took care of the cleaning and cooking. Together they took down all pictures of the fiancé from the walls, removed her from Neville's Skype account, changed the login screen of his laptop to a sexy lady in red instead of her, and moved all 12GB of pictures of her from his hard drive to CDs. The CDs were then stored in a suitcase with her pictures, clothes, books, belts, shoes, lamp, and any other thing she'd left behind at his house. The suitcase was left on top of the high cabinets until such a time came that Neville felt confident enough to throw them out completely.

They also solved the problem of most of Neville's wardrobe being chosen by the fiancé by going shopping together. That in itself was a whole other form of therapy and Neville's smile was more believable by the end of it.

Although he would still randomly burst into tears every now and then when something reminded him of her, he was mostly fine. And although he insisted it was mainly due to Harry's presence in his life, Harry had a hard time believing it. The trouble with Neville was that he cared too much about people liking him, and so he went around saying these things to everyone. He'd tell everyone that they were the single most important person in his life, that he had no one else to talk to besides them, that they were the only one he was sharing his private story with, that they were the only one who understood, etcetera. Harry got to see Neville behind the scenes because he lived with him, and soon he learned all of this. He heard Neville on the phone and on Viber and saw his Facebook messages and in all of them he was always praising people and telling them how they were the only best friend he had. That made it very hard for Harry to believe anything that came out of Neville's mouth about how important and what a good friend he was. He would always just absently smile and nod and when Neville would ask him to always stick around and never leave he'd just squeeze his hand and say of course but in his head he was already ten thousand miles away.

He didn't know what was real with Neville and what wasn't and to be honest he didn't much care anymore. He'd been there for Neville at his time of need and if Neville genuinely appreciated it or not didn't matter because that was just who Harry was, he was there for people in time of need. Whether it be a fake need or a real one. He was just disappointed with how it had all turned out. For a little while he had truly believed his worth to Neville. But now he just couldn't tell because Neville went around saying the same things to everyone. So he focused more on his internship and less on Neville, but still helped him with his assignments and drove him around for Sushi or McDonald's ice cream.

After a while their relationship felt much more one-sided. Harry always paid for petrol and even though he was exhausted after work he still took Neville out for a drive or a walk and a late-night meal if Neville asked and he cleaned the house and washed the dishes and wrote Neville's assignments. It started to feel like he was doing everything for Neville and Neville wasn't doing anything for him. He tried to remind himself that he was living there for free but it didn't feel like that anymore.

Neville had even started borrowing money from him and it felt like he was borrowing more than he could pay back. For the first time in his life Harry had actual money but what he was earning in a month from internship was still a third of what Neville got from his family for his monthly pocket money. Somehow Neville still spent all of that and borrowed more from Harry towards the end of the month when he was all out.

Harry felt chained and prisoned. He couldn't tell Neville about any of it, he was too uncomfortable talking about his feelings and he didn't want to break Neville even more when it seemed like he was finally recovering and so he just looked forward to the end of his internship when he could finally move back in with Ron whom didn't take advantage of Harry like this. Even if Ron asked for things from Harry he gave back to Harry in a different way and so their friendship remained balanced with both of them contributing to each other's wellbeing and happiness. Nothing with Neville felt balanced or genuine.

Just when Harry could see the light at the end of the tunnel, Neville went deep into depression again. He sobbed that he had no clue how to go on when Harry moved out. He begged Harry not to forget him and call him and visit him and still help him with his assignments.

And one day, when Harry was the most hopeful about finally moving out and Neville was most depressed about it, he finally sprang the most dreadful question on Harry.

"Move in with me. Just live here. It's closer to your university. I need you, Harry. Will you please move in with me?"

Harry blinked at Neville in horror. "But it's not right. I'm not paying any rent. And Ron needs me to live with him and pay half of the rent."

Neville looked ashen. "I need you more than that."

"I will ask Ron," Harry gave in. He cursed himself internally. He could never say no to anyone.

Neville smiled beautifully. "Oh, I just know it'll work out. We're meant to be roommates, Harry."

Harry nodded, dying inside.


	4. Celery and Classes

The end of internship had come. In the turmoil of writing up endless final reports, one thought remained at the forefront of Harry's mind: Where would he live?

He'd told Ron of his predicament some time ago. As he'd expected, the news had been taken with silence and a frown. The choice was his.

"You realize that you have a saving peoples thing," Ron had stated later. "You can't say no to whoever needs your help."

Harry had shrugged in response. He couldn't change his nature after almost twenty-one years. Something so deeply ingrained needed much more conviction to uproot.

"Just don't forget about me once you move out," Ron had sighed.

Hermione had suggested that he construct a pros and cons list; and there were definitely more pros to be found than cons. The house he shared with Ron was a mess: There was no hot water, there were maggots behind the cabinets and in the trash, the sink was constantly clogged, the metal gate had to be wrestled shut, the shower tap had to be wrestled open at a precise angle using a precise amount of force, there were mosquitos at night, the orange colour of the walls gave him a headache now, and on top of it all, a Nazi was in charge of the house. They were forced to wash their dishes on the spot ("What about things that need to be soaked?" Ron had asked in horror) and were scolded at every turn as if they were little kids.

Harry remembered the time that they had accidentally placed the flour on the edge of the shelf. That had been a nightmare. The Nazi had opened the cabinet and the flour had almost fallen on his head. Harry almost wished that it had; he certainly deserved a good flour-ing. Ron had been contacted and shouted at that if Harry and him weren't more careful about where they placed things they would be forbidden from cooking inside the house. Ron's face had been an alarming shade of red for hours after that, he'd been so angry. "Who told him to go and open up our cabinet anyway?" he had muttered under his breath for hours.

The Nazi also forbade female presence in the house, except for family, which made Ginny living there in Harry's stead a safe choice. A few weeks before internship Hermione had been feverish and had needed someone to take care of her throughout the night. The females' hostel didn't allow males to enter so neither Harry nor Ron could go and help her and their house didn't allow females to enter so Hermione couldn't come and stay with them for the night either. It was as bad as living in the males' hostel without the added benefit of being close to campus. It was actually almost as restrictive as living with his uncle had been.

In comparison, Neville's studio apartment had exquisite hot water, it was on the 17th floor so it had a brilliant view of the city, and the interior design was simplistic and easy on the eye. Furthermore, Neville was asking him to pay the same amount of rent that he was paying while living with Ron. Harry would only be paying a sixth of the rent of the studio apartment and got to use the brand new gym as well as the infinity pool. There were no Nazis around to dictate when he washed his dishes or watch that he didn't bring any girls home with him. In fact, Neville was rather fond of Hermione.

In hindsight, living with Neville's constant chattering sometimes got a bit much, and his staying up late and talking loudly and excitedly to his friends on the phone was definitely a headache to deal with. This was still an upgrade compared to Harry's past living conditions, however. He had been forced to live in the same small cupboard under the stairs at his uncle's house until he was eleven, and later at a boys' dormitory until he finished school. The dormitory had been its own special kind of hell, with many boys confined in the same small bedroom. More devils than boys, if Harry were to be honest. It had been a reform boarding school for 'incurably criminal' boys, and the bullies that he'd faced there had been far worse than his nightmares.

After he'd come back home, his uncle had been so used to his 'peaceful existence without the damned boy around' that it had been rather easy to persuade him to pay the small sum of Harry's rent so that he could move out and live with Ron. Although he'd had to raise the money for food and transport on his own, he'd still felt finally independent and free. But the rooms he'd shared with Ron so far had still been indisputably small. Living in a studio apartment that was at least thrice as big as his last shared bedroom for the past three months had spoiled him and he was not very interested in going back to squeezing himself into a mouse hole.

Also, knowing that he was able to make adequate money on his own made him all the more motivated to finish his studies as soon as possible, start working, and rent his own apartment unit. He didn't even have to worry about what his uncle's family thought of all the money he was making or that they'd take it from him, he was legal and entitled to his own money.

"Ron said he'll be fine with me moving here as long as I still go and stay with him on the weekends," Harry finally confessed to Neville on the Sunday after his internship had ended.

"Oh my God! Are you serious? This is great! We'll have so much fun!" Neville squeaked in joy.

Harry couldn't help but smile.

"When do your classes start?" Asked Neville, undoubtedly planning another late night-out.

"Tomorrow, actually," Harry sighed. "I did my internship during the short semester which is just two months, so the two weeks of holidays before and after the semester were swallowed up in my training."

"But when will you bring your stuff?" Asked Neville.

"I guess I'll go tomorrow after my classes end. My clothes and basic necessities are already here, I just have to move the other things like extra towels and formal clothes," replied Harry. "Oh, and the oven and cooking utensils that belong to me."

"I'll come with you. We can bring everything together," offered Neville.

"Alright," agreed Harry.

"Can we go grocery shopping?" Neville begged. "At the fresh market that's open 24/7. I want to start my diet again but we're out of celery and green apples."

"I still don't get how you stand that stuff," grimaced Harry.

"Don't knock it till you try it," sang Neville. "Mixing celery and green apple juice is the best. And the fibre helps so much with losing weight."

"I guess," Harry replied. "Fine, let's go. It's just eight o'clock; I don't think I could sleep yet anyway."

Neville's car had more than enough petrol to get them to the market. They spent more than an hour walking the long aisles of fresh fruit and vegetables. The fruit here had more colour, the vegetables were bigger in size and seemed fresher and crunchier, the fresh tofu floated in buckets of water, and the overly-priced fish and shrimp were freshly caught. Although the seafood had been sold-out during the day, the stalls that sold whole chicken were still open and in business.

In the end, they bought some of everything including cabbage (per request of Harry). In fact, the only reason that they stopped was Neville's small fridge. When it was time to go home, Harry's sense of adventure suddenly lit up. It had been a long three months of overworking and his classes started tomorrow. This was the only holiday he got. It was ten o'clock at night, but Harry's heart was far from going home.

"Where to now?" He asked. "Back home?"

"Anywhere you want to go," replied Neville easily.

"I don't feel like going home yet," Harry confessed.

"Where do you want to go, then?" Neville asked curiously.

"How about the City of Lights?" Harry asked after tapping his finger on the steering wheel.

"Where's that?" Asked Neville.

"You've never been? Then we're definitely going there," Harry decided.

"Is it a city? Are we going on a trip?" Neville asked, clueless.

"No, no. It's something like a theme park. It's surrounded by lights in all shapes and sizes," Harry explained.

"So you can go on rides and stuff?" Neville squealed.

"I think so," said Harry.

They arrived after thirty-five minutes. They knew it was the right place because the nearby trees and lamp posts were decorated with fairy lights of all colours. There was even a big dolphin made out of blue-silvery lights outside the big gates. The underground parking that they entered into had a low ceiling but there were colourful and happy drawings on the walls which took away from the grim setting. Harry was starting to feel that it was a bad idea to come such a long way from home when he had to wake up early for classes, but Neville was as excited as ever. The sadness of his breakup still seemed to linger in Neville and these small moments when Harry could help take his mind of it were so precious to Harry, even if he was starting to regret his decision to come here this late.

Coming late turned out to have been a good decision after they saw how empty the place was. It was like being in a storybook. The lights made it seem otherworldly and because there was almost no one there it seemed to belong to only them. They walked around for a while, looking at the rides from afar, heard people's excited cheers, and bought some juice. Harry wasn't regretting the decision to come here anymore.

They left around midnight when the place was closing down. Two big smiles were plastered on both of their faces the whole way back.

"Let's come again soon," Said Neville in a dreamy voice.

"Absolutely," agreed Harry, his voice equally as dreamy.

That night Harry went to sleep feeling both heavy and light at the same time. He was tired to the bone, but still rather nervous about his first day of classes. He was so used to being a working adult and taking responsibility for his own actions that he didn't know if he could go back to being a student and having to turn in assignments under the supervision of his lecturers. He felt like he'd grown out of the student that he used to be. He liked himself so much more as he was now; he had much more confidence in his abilities and now that the weight of the exams had lifted he was actually enthusiastic about learning new things. Would going back to his student role revert all of that? He guessed that the only thing he could do was to wait and see. At least he still felt excited about some of the classes he would be having this trimester. Among them was Algorithm Analysis and Design, which was a subject taught by one of his most clueless lecturers; but he still felt drawn towards it despite of that. He was not familiar with the tutor, however. It was a man named Draco Malfoy.

The next day, Harry woke up at eight, showered, dressed in his usual rumpled clothes, and rushed out to catch a bus to campus. Usually he shared classes with Ron but this time around he had registered for classes on time whereas Ron had not. Hence, most of Harry's class sections had been filled out by the time Ron had finally registered. Harry went through the first day of classes mostly lonely and completely hungry. His friendship with Ron had been so absolute that they had been lost in their own little circle, never needing to step out and make any other connections except for group assignments. Although it had not seemed like a big issue at the time, Harry was starting to regret it now. He knew people's names and faces, but didn't know them beyond a hi and bye.

That evening he went to his old house with Neville and between the two of them they managed to pack and bring all of Harry's remaining belongings. He was thankful that no one had been home. He still felt guilty about having ditched Ron and even after all this time running into his ex, Ginny, was a bit of an awkward situation.

He went through the rest of the week rather smoothly. Sometimes Neville would cook them food and he'd take some to lunch with him. The first week was just lectures, so he only had classes from Monday to Wednesday. The rest of his days were spent playing online games and trying to listen to Neville's long and seemingly pointless stories.

Next week, he'd be having both lecture and tutorial classes. He'd finally be able to see who this Malfoy was. It was strange that there was still a staff he didn't know, he'd been studying here for two and a half years now. He shrugged, hoping that the tutor would be able to make sense of the subject. His lecturer had been as hopeless as ever while teaching it.


	5. Water and Participation

It was Wednesday, second week of classes. Living with Neville had made Harry lazy. He already felt like skipping classes, especially on those days when he only had one class. To come all the twenty minutes to campus, stay for an hour or so, and then go back home was simply too hard; especially when neither Ron nor Hermione were present to drag him to class. Ron was enrolled in different class sections and Hermione was specializing in Information Systems which meant that she had different final year classes than the two of them.

As he thought about how to motivate himself to attend classes, he walked into the first tutorial of the trimester. It was a lab, which meant computers and coding, so he expected it to be fun. Moreover, it was with the mystery tutor. Harry was ten minutes early, and alone, as was the norm these days. The labs in his faculty were set up to fit 40 people, with twenty desks and two computers to a desk. Although his first trimester of the degree had started with over a hundred students to a class, it was now his final year and the number of students had decreased to fifty or sixty per class, and even as low as twenty in classes that weren't as popular. He wasn't sure if this was due to dropouts or people retaking subjects, but he was glad enough for the added silence. Crowds made him feel uncomfortable with their incessant chattering.

He took a seat at the front desk on the right, which was the closest to the high windows and directly in front of the tutor's desk. This was the seat he always took, partly due to his bad eyesight and needing to be closer to the three side-by-side boards at the front, and partly due to liking to be close to the windows. The sky outside was moody and grey. It looked like rain. He couldn't nurse the false hope that it would pass; it even smelt like rain.

He sighed in defeat. He'd get soaked to the bone walking home. He was regretting his decision to not bring a jacket and to wear his good shoes when the loud entrance of the tutor brought him back to the present. The metal door handle squeaked as it was pushed down, and the door was left to bang shut behind Draco Malfoy. Harry's eyes widened in surprise. He'd seen this face months ago, and a few times since then in his mind's eye. He almost stood up in surprise.

During the short walk from the entrance to the tutor's desk, Harry was free to notice how young Malfoy looked. He was by far the youngest tutor he'd had. He didn't look more than a few years older than Harry. Maybe 24 or 25. That meant he was a genius. Harry smiled involuntarily. So far his classes had been boring but this looked promising. He loved the smart ones.

He watched as the tutor put down his folders on the desk and took a white-board marker. Soon, two large words appeared on the board, written in an elegant script. Harry glanced behind him. There were not more than five students in class; he suspected that most had not yet arrived.

"Good afternoon," Malfoy started. His smooth voice easily carried through the lab room. "It's still five minutes till class officially starts. I will always be here five minutes early. I don't expect you to do the same, I respect your time and as to not waste it, I need to be here earlier to set everything up. My class will start on the hour and end ten minutes earlier so that you have the required time to make it to your next class."

Harry looked up at him, chewing on his lip and trying to figure out what kind of a class this would be. Malfoy caught his eyes and smiled. It was a professional but amiable smile. Harry was almost certain that Malfoy didn't remember seeing him all those months ago at his old house when Ron and him had been sharing a small room in Justin Finch-Fletchley's house, but a part of him was still searching for any signs of recognition. Unlike the memorable shade of Malfoy's hair, Harry had no outstanding features, and so he doubted that he would be remembered and recognized.

He thought he saw a flicker of surprise pass those grey eyes, but in a second they moved away from him and settled on the door as a few other students filed in. Malfoy went on to open the necessary files on a laptop that he set up, ignoring the standard computer placed there for tutors to use. He connected it to the projector and finished off by playing an upbeat song while waiting for everyone to arrive.

True to his word, he started the class at two o'clock on the dot.

"Okay, I hope everyone is already here. Now, you've probably seen me walking around the faculty, but this is the first time I'm teaching a class, so bear with me. First things first, if you haven't met me yet, my name is Draco Malfoy, but you can all call me Draco. I graduated from here a couple of years ago. I was fortunate enough to be taken in as somewhat of an apprentice by one of the professors here during my first year, and that helped me with expanding my programming skills. I entered many programming competitions throughout degree and came first in most occasions. After I graduated the university offered me a position as an assistant researcher and now they've asked me to teach. Any questions so far?"

His impressive speech was met with silence.

"Okay. That brings me to my next point." Draco continued. "There are only two things that I require of you in this class. Can anyone tell me what they are?"

Harry tried not to answer. He really did. He didn't know if it was Hermione's voice ingrained inside him that made him want to reply to a question that he had the answer to or if it was a trait of his own.

"Energy and participation," he replied. Draco's eyes settled on him with another smile.

"Yes," he said encouragingly. "It's written behind me on the board. I need energy from you. I want you to be awake in my class. I want you to help me demonstrate parts of the lesson by walking and doing what I tell you to do. Is that alright with everyone?"

"Yes," the students replied after a few seconds.

"Alright!" said Draco. "The other thing I need from you is participation. I want active learning in this class. So when I ask a question, I want everyone to answer. And if someone doesn't understand a part of the lab, I want them to ask for help. We will not move on from a step until everyone can do it. Is that alright with you guys?"

"Yes," came the reply, quicker this time.

"Great! Now, let's start by learning more about each other. I want everyone to tell me their names, one by one. Let's start with you," said Draco, extending his hand towards Harry.

Harry stood up awkwardly. He hated participation classes. He liked the ones where he got to sit and be invisible and do things on his own. Any hopes that he'd had of enjoying this class disappeared in a puff of smoke.

"Harry Potter," he announced, sitting back down and pulling his chair forward.

"Nice to meet you Harry," said Draco, turning around to write his name on the board. "Next, please. Give me a moment to write your names, and then the next person can introduce themselves."

"Parvati Patil," a girl somewhere behind Harry said next.

"Nice to meet you Parvati," said Draco, writing down her name too.

"Dean Thomas," said the next guy.

Draco went on to greet him as well. This routine continued until the names of Padma Patil, Lavender Brown, Seamus Finnigan, Ernie Macmillan, Zacharias Smith, Michael Corner, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, and Theodore Nott were added to the board. All in all, thirteen students; only four of them girls.

"Great. Now, I want to know who knows who. So come up here, take a marker, and draw a circle around your friendship group."

At first one by one, and then slowly all the students stood and walked to the board to draw appropriate circles. Harry's circle entailed one name: his own. Everyone else had broken off into small groups: Parvati Patil was with Padma Patil and Lavender Brown, Seamus Finnigan was with Dean Thomas, Ernie Macmillan was with Zacharias Smith and Michael Corner, while Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle were in a circle with Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott.

"Interesting," said Draco, after everyone was done and had sat back down. "Thirteen people in five groups. And one group only has one member."

Harry felt like dipping his head but kept it up. He absolutely hated participation classes.

"Now, I want you to come back up again and draw lines from your name to whoever's name that you know. Only draw the line if you really know them, not just by name. Say, if you have their phone number, or are friends with them on Facebook, or something like that."

They got up again, drew lines, and by the time everyone had sat back down again the board was filled with lines crossing each other. This time, Harry was thankfully connected to some people.

"Okay, good," said Draco, studying their work. "Now, what does this remind you of?"

"A network," some voices replied.

"Yes, a network. Now, can anyone redraw this for me so that it's easier to see?" Asked Draco.

Harry put up his hand. As his back was to everyone else, he wasn't sure if anyone else had put up their hands.

"Yes, Harry. Come on up and rewrite the names of people in networks on the second board."

Harry carefully separated the circles in his mind and then drew them on the second board. He wrote down his own name, connected it to Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, and then connected Seamus and Dean together so that they all made a circle together. He then wrote Parvati Patil, Padma Patil, and Lavender Brown and connected them in a circle too. Next, he drew a line from Dean to Parvati. Now it was two circles connected through one line. Then he drew a separate circle for Ernie Macmillan, Zacharias Smith, and Michael Corner. After that, he connected Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle to Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott.

"Thank you, Harry," said Draco as Harry sat back down. "Now we have two separate circles, and two circles connected through one line. Okay, now I want everyone to come back up and draw arrows on their lines so that it implies direction. For example, if Parvati feels that she knows Padma, she can draw a directed line from herself to Padma. If Padma feels the same, she can draw a directed line back to Parvati. If not, there will be just one directed line from Parvati's name to Padma's."

Everyone stood up and did as they were told. Harry was getting tired of all this standing up and sitting down.

"Now, what does this remind you of?" Draco asked again.

"A graph with vertices and edges," answered Harry.

"Yes, good," said Draco. "Can everyone please stand up, come to the front of the class, and stand in your friendship groups. Please stand in the order that your names are written. If there is a line connecting you, hold up your hand towards that person."

After everyone had shuffled forward and placed themselves, Draco moved in between them to observe. "Okay. Since this is too big of a group, why don't we keep one circle and the others can see what we're doing, and then we can switch. So, Harry's group can stay. The rest please move to the side of the classroom so you can see better."

Harry bit his lip, admittedly pleased with himself. Draco already knew his name and continued to use it.

"Great," commented Draco when everything was set up. "Now, we're going to do both depth-first search and breadth-first search using this circle."

Draco asked them who they thought would be the first person in depth-first search. One by one every person in the circle sat in place after they'd been searched. When the depth-first search was completed, they went through the whole process again for breadth-first search. Harry looked at his watch. Already an hour had gone by. He had mastered the search algorithms a long time ago and thought this was rather a waste of time. Every time, he answered Draco's questions correctly, and every time, he was amazed that most people didn't know the right answer. This was their final year. They'd already done search algorithms in at least two other subjects.

After Draco was satisfied with everyone's grasp on the two search algorithms, he had them sit back down and do some coding on it. They were to go through a website representation of a tree being searched using the two search algorithms and then write their own codes for it. Harry was finally happy to work in peace on something he found interesting.

As they coded, Draco moved from computer to computer, seeing their progress and answering any questions. Harry was done with his code in less than ten minutes. Draco looked at it and nodded approvingly, asking him to go and help the others who couldn't get it. Harry reluctantly went to help Seamus, who was stuck at his control statements. The class was at too basic a level for him. Draco kept glancing in his direction with a careful and assessing look in his eyes.

_Great,_ thought Harry. _He knows I hate his class. And I was so looking forward to it at first._

When it was three forty-five, Draco had them all sit back in their places. "I think today's class went well. Let's revise the two types of algorithms that we went through. Would anyone care to explain them in a short statement?"

Harry put up his hand again.

"Yes, go on Harry," said Draco. "Tell the class about depth-first search, please."

"You explore all the children first," stated Harry in a bored tone of voice.

"Good, yes," commented Draco. "Can someone tell us about breadth-first search?"

Harry put up his hand one more time.

"Anyone besides Harry?" Pleaded Draco. "Yes, Theodore?"

"You go to the siblings first," said Theodore.

"Yes, great," nodded Draco. "Now, for the most important question. Did everyone enjoy themselves?"

"Yes," came the immediate reply. Harry scrunched his nose.

"Alright," said Draco. "Now, we're going to keep everything we learned today with us, and we're going to let go of all the tiredness. So, I'll play the ending song, and I want you to stand up, bend down as far as you can, slowly bring you hands up, throw them on top of your head, and say 'let it go!' Can everyone do that?"

"Yes," came the enthusiastic reply. Harry wasn't feeling enthusiastic at all.

Draco played the upbeat song and had them all stand up and go through the motion. They all threw their hands up and shouted "Let it go!"

"Good," said Draco. "It's now three fifty. We'll end the class here. See you all next week."

As Harry started to pack his things, Draco added, "Harry, please stay back for a while, I want to discuss something with you."

Harry almost groaned. He couldn't help it if he didn't like participation classes. Did he have to be called out on it too?

He stayed behind as everyone slowly left the classroom, chattering and laughing. He moved closer to Draco's desk and waited as Draco packed his own laptop. As he waited, he was free to study Draco's features up close. The hair was a shocking fall of silvery-gold, parted in the center and tucked behind his ears. Silver-framed glasses made Draco's grey eyes look deeper and more intense, or maybe that was how they always looked. Harry was envious. He'd never looked half as interesting. There was a certain maturity there and a certain sadness that intrigued Harry.

Outside, it was raining wholeheartedly. Harry sighed again, examining his shoes. They'd be muddy and wet for days.

"Thank you for waiting, Harry," said Draco, finally done packing. "I wanted to ask you if you needed a ride home."

"Excuse me?" Asked Harry, blinking slowly.

"I heard from Justin, your old housemate and my friend that you'd moved out to somewhere far, even though you don't have a car." Explained Draco. "And it's raining. I'm done for the classes for the day, so I thought maybe I could drop you off at home on my way back."

Many thoughts raced across Harry's mind. First was, _he remembers me._ Second was, _he asked Justin about me_. Third was, _am I actually noticeable?_

"Um," replied Harry, trying not to show any of his thoughts. "Why?"

"Why?" Asked Draco, frowning. "Because… because, well, I wanted to discuss private classes with you."

"Excuse me?" Asked Harry again.

"Well, I think you're at a higher level than everyone else here, but I can't speed up the class because as you saw today not everyone understands things as well as you do. So I thought a private one-on-one class where we do more advanced coding might be more beneficial for you," explained Draco.

Harry just looked at Draco, not knowing how to reply to such an offer. He'd stayed back expecting to be scolded for looking bored in class, not being offered private tuition.

"Well, you remember how I said a professor here took me in and taught me privately and that I am where I am now because of it? I wanted to do the same for you. I think you have great potential," Draco went on.

"Will I have to pay for the extra classes?" Asked Harry cautiously.

"No, I couldn't ask that of you. I will just use your help in some of my projects, and that will be payment enough," replied Draco. "You don't have to answer right now. But it's a great opportunity, so think about it. Now, how about that ride home?"

Harry kindly declined the offer for the ride. It felt too strange, taking a ride from his tutor. But he did consider the offer of private classes at length. Wasn't it what he'd always wanted? Wasn't he always dissatisfied with the limited amount of things that they were taught? _Private classes with Draco Malfoy,_ he thought to himself._ Hmm_.


	6. Orange Juice and Penthouse

On Friday evening, Draco drove Harry to his apartment in Korea town. It was an hour away from campus, but it was the nicest house that Harry had ever been to. It was the penthouse on the 16th and 17th floors and overlooked the whole city. The noise of the traffic below was muffled thanks to the apartment being located on a high floor as well as the double-glazed windows. The house was richly furnished. There were U-shaped sectional sofas that were creamy-white in colour and had grey pillows with black or white stripes. A simple dark brown coffee table sat in the middle of them on top of a light and dark grey striped carpet. That seemed to determine the colour theme of the house. The floor was paneled with sand-coloured wood, the walls were light olive-grey, and flower pieces hung on the walls.

The two stories of the house were separated by a ceiling that only covered the top of the kitchen and dining area. The living room's ceiling on the first floor had been removed so that it became a very tall room with its basis on the first floor and its ceiling on the second floor. This allowed space for a large glass chandelier to be hung from the second floor's ceiling. The wall connected to the outside was a two-story double-glazed window. The windows were bare, and indeed there was no need for curtains as the penthouse was higher than any other apartment in sight. There was a large mahogany piano placed near the spiral staircase, facing the window. Odd statues were placed here and there, obvious souvenirs from other countries. The dining table was a round Chinese-styled table with a round piece in the middle that allowed for rotating food. It was dark brown and had similar coloured chairs around it with white padding. The kitchen, bathroom, and bedrooms were not visible to Harry, but he guessed that the bedrooms were upstairs.

He couldn't believe that Draco lived here. There were so many cultures and styles inside one house. Every inch was covered with furniture, decorative pieces such as statues and vases, or carpets.

"Don't just stand there, come on in," prompted Draco from the large desk set in the corner of the living room. Oddly enough, there was no television.

As Harry moved further inside, something soft wrapped around his feet. He looked down to find a furry ginger cat rubbing itself against him.

"That's princess," said Draco. "She's been with me since she was four months old. She's half Persian and half American Curl."

Harry bent down to pet this strange breed of a cat. Princess purred as he rubbed her cheeks and neck and looked up at him with her dreamy golden-green eyes. When she finally let him go, he went and sat at the chair next to Draco's, setting his laptop bag by his feet. This was his pride and joy. He'd saved money for two years to be able to buy it. While Ron's laptop was an old Dell passed down through his family with a dual core that took ages to process anything, Harry's was a second-hand Dell Vostro with an i5 core that processed things a thousand times faster. He loved it even though it was rather heavy. The pain in his shoulders from carrying it around all day reminded him of its worth and the hard work he'd put into acquiring it.

"Okay, first I want to know what your strengths and weakness are," started Draco. "So I've emailed you some programming questions that I'd like you to do."

Harry took out his laptop, connected the wire as well as the LAN cable, opened up his mail, and started coding without any further prompt. Halfway through, he put in his earphones, tuned into a classical Spotify playlist, and continued coding. Some of the questions included things that he hadn't worked on for two or so years, like pointers and coding them out in C++, so it took him a while to reacquaint himself with them. Draco signaled that it was fine to look up anything that he needed to, since in a real life situation he would be able to. Most questions only took him a few minutes, but a stubborn one that he left and come back to later took at least half an hour. Draco had sent him five files with ten questions each, as well as a bonus question in each file that was harder and longer than the rest. He finally finished after three hours and twenty-five minutes. He took off his earphones, rolled his shoulders and wrists and stretched out his feet.

"Done," he announced. Draco had been sitting by his side the whole time, looking over his shoulder, but not showing any signs of approval or disapproval, sometimes petting his cat.

"May I?" Asked Draco, pointing at Harry's laptop.

Harry nodded his consent and stood up to walk around and stretch his feet while Draco looked through his answers.

"You didn't answer the ones for a java GUI," called out Draco after a few minutes.

"I think I saved it in another folder," replied Harry just as Draco called out "Never mind, found it."

It took Draco thirty minutes to go through everything. When he was done, he had a grim look on his face.

"Harry, how much is your GPA?" Asked Draco.

"3.7 something." Replied Harry. "Why?"

"It should be 4.0," said Draco with a grin. "Everything was correct. What I gave you was final lab tests from different universities around the world. For each ten questions an hour is allocated. Each bonus question has three marks while each normal question has one. Generally, people don't have time to do more than seven correct questions per test. Which means its normal to do seven questions per hour, not considering the bonus question, so if you multiply that by the five files of tests, you are meant to be doing thirty-five correct questions out of the fifty-five questions in five hours on average.

"You just did fifty-five correct questions in three hours and twenty-five minutes." Said Draco, grin still in place.

"But you let me look up things," reasoned Harry.

"These lab tests are always open-book, Harry," replied Draco. "Accept that you are good at this. Now, that makes my job a lot easier. That's enough for today. I will email you some more advanced questions later. It will be an interesting journey to find your limits."

"Okay," replied Harry. "So, I'll be off then. Can you tell me how to take the train back from here?"

"No, no, stay the weekend, we have a lot of work to do," insisted Draco.

"But you're my tutor," said Harry, horrified. No one slept at their tutor's house.

"Harry, I'm practically the same age as you, and you've accepted to become my apprentice. You just have to get over it."

"I didn't bring anything with me," Harry went on. "No toothbrush, pajamas, or towel."

"I have an extra of all of those," replied Draco. "Anything else?"

Harry gulped. Just agreeing to the apprenticeship and coming to Draco's house had been stepping way out of his comfort zone. He didn't think it was okay to get this close to someone's tutor.

"Come on now, don't make me eat dinner alone," begged Draco.

"You have Princess," said Harry.

"Yes, and I treat her like a human far too much. I almost expect her to reply to my one-sided conversations," said Draco. "I will even drive you to campus on Monday, in time for your classes. What's the worst that could happen?"

Harry wasn't sure if it was the three hours of coding that had killed his brain or if he really didn't want to leave Draco, but in the end he agreed to stay for the weekend. Draco gave him a yellow toothbrush, pajamas that had cats all over them, and a pale blue towel that was soft and thick. The bedrooms were indeed upstairs. Draco stayed in the master bedroom and he let Harry choose between the two remaining ones. Harry took the one that was smaller but closer to the bathroom. He was used to waking up in the middle of the night and going to the bathroom; this made his job easier.

For dinner, they had orange juice. Apparently Draco's kitchen was nowhere near as well-stocked as his house was well-furnished. They went to the grocery shop and bought some basic things like cereal and soup powder. Draco's fridge had things like broccoli and celery, but they looked like they had gone bad weeks ago. Harry was horrified at the wastage of food and thus money, but was somewhat used to it as it seemed to be a trait that ran through the programmers' blood.

He went to bed that night much earlier than Draco, who stayed up preparing class plans and examples. After being around Draco at his house and having normal conversations with him, Harry was finding it easy to forget the formal implications between them. Draco looked formidable and strict from afar, but now Harry knew that he went to bed with a cat called Princess sleeping on his pillow. That made him a lot more human.

The next day, Harry woke up first. Light had streamed through his windows and pierced his eyelids. Princess was delighted to find him awake and jumped on his soft bed so that he could pet her. Harry looked around the bedroom in the daylight. He was sleeping on a queen-sized bed that was just two mattresses piled on top of each other with wheels on the bottom. A white desk with ornaments on it stood on his left and long wooden wardrobes were on his right. The windows were to the left of the desk and facing the bed, the light brown curtains covering them unable to stop the flood of bright light. The bed had so many pillows that in his sleep he'd pushed most of them to the ground.

After half an hour of just lying there and petting the spoiled cat, he finally got out of bed. Unwrapping himself from the covers reminded him of the fact that he was wearing cat pajamas. He must look ridiculous with his hair sticking all over the place and cats crawling on his body. He grabbed the pillows and threw them on the bed, which resulted in a frightened Princess running from the room, grabbed his toothbrush and clothes, and went to the bathroom.

Draco woke up around noon. He came down to find Harry lounging on the sofa, enjoying the view, with a cup of tea in front of him.

"Hey," said Draco by way of greeting. "This isn't a holiday house. You're here to work and learn. I emailed you some more advanced questions, go through them please, and time yourself again."

"Two hours and fifteen minutes," replied Harry, not moving an inch.

"You're already done?" Asked Draco. It sounded like he had frozen mid step on his way down the stairs.

"Yup, woke up early," said Harry. "This isn't a holiday house, you know."

"Ha ha," said Draco dryly. "Show me the code."

Harry got up to take his laptop to the dining table where Draco was having more orange juice for breakfast.

"We bought cereal yesterday, didn't we?" Asked Harry.

"But orange juice," pouted Draco.

"I see," said Harry solemnly, sliding his laptop carefully in front of Draco. He sat at the chair next to Draco, watching Princess eat her cat food for breakfast. She made satisfying crunching sounds.

Draco sipped his juice and went through Harry's code.

"Okay, no more going easy on you," announced Draco after he was done. "We'll have lunch and then I'll send you actual tough questions."

"But didn't you just have breakfast? How are you already hungry for lunch?" Asked Harry innocently.

Draco glared at him, muttering about how he had liked it better when Harry was treating him formally. For Harry, sleeping over had totally broken through the ice and he went through lunch (hot soup that burned their tongues) teasing and poking at Draco. It was so easy to forget that Draco was his tutor and not his classmate. By nightfall, he'd gotten through another set of questions which admittedly took him four hours and five minutes and he was completely over setting a wall between Draco and him.

"You realize that in class you still have to treat me as your tutor and with respect," said Draco after Harry was done wrestling with him to try and grab his phone to look through his pictures.

"Yes, sir," said Harry dutifully. "No worries, Sir."

"I mean as long as that's established," said Draco, taking a pillow and hitting Harry with it.

"Totally established," said Harry, grabbing another pillow to defend himself.

"I mean we are mature and responsible adults spending time studying and training here," Draco went on, pushing and hitting Harry's pillow.

"Everyone would agree that that's clear as day," agreed Harry, pushing back equally hard.  
>All the while Princess stood an appropriate distance away, arching her back and hissing at their strange and noisy behaviour.<p> 


	7. Ice Cream and Protesting

Another Wednesday had come. It was time to go to the algorithm tutorial and act as if Draco was nothing but his tutor.

"Are you ashamed of being my apprentice?" Draco had asked on the drive to campus on Monday morning, mock hurt.

"I hate standing out," Harry had mumbled.

"No offense, but not having a single friend in that class kind of makes you stand out as it is," Draco had pointed out.

Harry had just glared at him.

He walked into the classroom through the front entrance. There were two entrances to every big lab room, one in the front where all the whiteboards were and one at the back where the technician of each lab sat to monitor the class and help out with any hardware problems if any arose. The front entrance was a straight line to the tutor's desk which was in front of Harry's favourite desk. His gaze swept over the class as he entered and he stopped short. One of the students - Theodore Nott?- had taken his seat. Of course, he could take the seat besides him as there were two computers to a desk, but Nott looked positively frightening despite his weedy frame.

The room was set up in a four by five square, with four desks sitting side by side in a row facing the whiteboards and five desks trailing behind each of them, but his prefered window seats were only the right-most column of desks, the first of which Nott had occupied.

He ignored the other desks to the left of Nott in the front row and grudgingly sat one row behind Nott and glared at the back of his head.

"What did you learn during the lecture this week?" Was Draco's first question after class started.

"Hash tables," answered Harry in his usual, and rather low, tone of voice.

Draco looked around questioningly, having not heard anything. For a few seconds the class was quiet. Harry bit his lip, feeling the embarrassment of having to repeat himself. He was always conscious of his low tone of voice; during presentations lecturers and tutors always said that he sounded as if he was talking to himself. _It's the damn desire not to stand out,_ he thought furiously. As he was about to swallow his pride and repeat himself (and risk not being heard yet again,) another voice spoke up.

"Hash tables," repeated Nott, capturing Draco's eyes.

Harry glared at him harder. It wasn't enough that he'd stolen his seat, he had to steal his answers too? He breathed in, telling himself to calm down, that anyone would have known what they'd studied during the lecture as long as they'd attended it just as everyone had a right to answer Draco's questions. He got to monopolize Draco's attention during the weekends and their sessions together, but here Draco belonged to everyone.

"That's right. Can anyone tell me what's desirable about hash tables?" Continued Draco.

"Faster storage and retrieval of data," said Harry, trying to speak louder this time.

"Sorry, did someone say something?" Asked Draco. His eyes flickered in Harry's direction uncertainly.

"Faster storage and retrieval of data," Nott's smooth voice replied.

"Good. Your name was Theodore, yes?" Enquired Draco.

"Theodore Nott," Confirmed Nott. "You have a good memory, sir."

Draco smiled at him warmly. Harry frowned. He was greatly tempted to kick Nott's chair.

"Now, I want everyone to tell me their favourite hobby. I have an Excel sheet here and I will write down your hobbies one by one, unless they are repetitive. People who have the same hobby go on the same line. Who wants to go first?" Harry's hand shot up. "Harry?"

"Programming," answered Harry.

"Protracting? Is that what you said?" Asked Draco in astonishment.

"No, I said programming," replied Harry louder, his arms clutching the sides of his chair.

Draco nodded and started writing down 'protesting' on line number 1, and then Harry's name in front of it, saying "That's a strange hobby."

Harry went red. "I said _programming,_" he muttered to himself, giving up.

"Okay, who wants to go next?" Nott leaned forward, easily capturing Draco's attention. "Yes, Theodore?"

"My hobby is programming, sir," said Nott pleasantly. His voice easily filled the whole room. Harry's envy reached new heights.

"Really? That's great. It's rare to love what you do, but it definitely warrants success in your future," Draco went on to write 'programming' next to line number 2, along with Draco's name in the next cell. "Next?"

Harry's hands clutched the seat harder. He bit his lip. Why was it so hard to speak up? He always subconsciously wanted to shrink and disappear; be invisible. Now when he wanted to speak up and answer Draco's questions - which by no means made him a teacher's pet- it was working against him. Sitting in the first row made it easier to get the lecturer or tutors' attention, and his lower volume of voice didn't matter as much, since they more or less could hear him or lip read. But even one row further was far enough to drown out his voice. Unlike Nott or Draco's voices that naturally carried, his voice only traveled to one desk in front which made it impossible for Draco to hear him, but for Nott to have perfect hearing range and the ability to snatch and use his answers.

Meanwhile, the class was carrying on. Dean Thomas's hobby turned out to be art, Parvati Patil and Lavender brown enjoyed fortune telling, Seamus Finnigan liked cooking, although he admitted that he burned most of what he cooked, Ernie Macmillan and Michael Corner enjoyed reading, Zacharias Smith's hobby was football, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle were into competitive eating, and Pansy Parkinson had interests in fashion.

"Okay, that's good. Now I will read your names and numbers and you can stand in groups in the front of the class. The first group should stand at the leftmost near the front entrance while the last group should stand at the rightmost near where I'm standing at my desk. Okay?" Everyone nodded. "Group one, Harry. Group two, Theodore. Group three, Dean. Group four, Parvati and Lavender. Group five, Seamus. Group six, Ernie and Michael. Group seven, Zacharias. Group eight, Vincent and Gregory. Group nine, Pansy."

Harry dragged his feet towards the leftmost corner, staring at the projector on the board as if he could will the word 'protesting' out of existence.

"What a baby," Pansy breathed as he passed her. "A little wittle protesting baby."

Harry went red again, ignoring her. Draco caught his eye and smiled uncertainly. Harry looked away. This was not how he'd wanted this lesson to go. On the right side of him Nott stood in group two, smirking.

"Alright. I see everyone has their place. Now, what does this kind of sorting remind you of?" Asked Draco.

"Hash tables," they all replied.

"Good, yes," nodded Draco. "Can you all see how this helps with the fast storage and retrieval of data? If I wanted to know who likes reading, I could just go to group six, and then process first Ernie and then Michael. Similarly, if I wanted to add someone who liked reading, I would just as easily identify that they belonged in group six and put them there. Is there anyone who is confused by that?"

Vincent put his hand up.

"Okay, good, thanks for putting your hand up, Vincent. Who can help Vincent understand how hash tables work?" Asked Draco.

Harry put his hand up, but so did Nott, and although he was thinner than Harry, he was much taller. Harry being on the most left, Nott on his right, and Draco on the most right, Nott's hand easily blocked Harry's. The troubling part was that he wasn't sure any more about whether Draco would have picked him even if his hand had been visible.

"Thank you Theodore, go on."

"Well, it's like a pointer system really, isn't it, sir?"

"Face Vincent and explain it to him, Theodore, not me," Said Draco gently. Harry looked down at his feet.

"Okay, Vincent, just imagine those numbers we're grouped under as pointers. They point to the people under them and to the hobby. So if anyone wanted to know which people like a certain hobby, it would be easy to link the hobby to the group number and to the people. After they find the group, they can either find out who the people inside the group are or add someone to their list."

"Very good, Theodore. Does that help, Vincent?"

Vincent nodded. Harry clenched his teeth. He went through the rest of the class struggling and being overshadowed by Nott at every turn. He bottled it all up, from Wednesday through to Friday, when he finally got Draco all to himself.

"It's all that damn Nott's fault," growled Harry on the way to Draco's penthouse.

Draco slowed down to accommodate the car in front of him and smiled. "I rather liked him."

"You would," mumbled Harry.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that."

"Exactly!"

Draco looked at Harry from the corner of his eye. "Are you feeling alright?"

"He used all my answers just because you couldn't hear me," pouted Harry.

"Well, that's your own fault isn't it? Should have spoken up."

"I was only on the second row!"

Draco raised his eyebrows. "And you still should have spoken up. Sometimes it's like you're speaking to yourself, you know."

"No. You were intentionally ignoring me."

"Why on Earth would I do that?"

"Inverse favouritism so no one would think I was your apprentice," replied Harry quickly, with another pout.

"There is no such thing as inverse favouritism, Harry," Chuckled Draco. "And there's nothing wrong with people knowing that I've taken you in. It's a great compliment to your skills, in fact. I thought it was you that wanted to keep it a secret?"

"It's all that damn Nott's fault," Harry returned to his original argument.

"In what way?" Draco persisted.

"He took my seat," Harry sunk in his seat, crossing his arms, and pouted again.

Draco laughed. "You are being a petulant child. It's definitely true that protesting is your hobby."

"Programming, I said programming!"

"Did you now?" Teased Draco.

"Yes! And you didn't hear right! You should get your ears checked, you old man."

"Old man?" Repeated Draco. "Is that the best you could come up with? Oh, dear."

"Everyone made fun of my love to protest all week long," Harry went on, ignoring him. "Even some of the lecturers. It's the most embarrassing thing that could have happened to me."

"Maybe you should protest about that," said Draco, grin in place.

Harry let out a frustrated groan.

"What's so bad about standing out?" Asked Draco after a few minutes of silence when a more serious mood had settled over the car. "Doesn't everyone want to be unique and stand out?"

"Not when you've lived the life that I have," said Harry vaguely.

Draco looked at him from the corner of his eye. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Harry shook his head. Draco's concern was palpable.

"If we're going to be working together I need to know you as a person so that I can be a better mentor to you. You need to tell me about this eventually, Harry. Your contradictory desires to simultaneously not stand out and answer questions are strange to say the least."

"Bet you wished that Nott was your apprentice instead," said Harry, looking out the window.

"To be honest, no, I don't want someone who has exceptional hearing abilities, I want you, I want someone who has actual programming potential. Now, enough about Theodore."

The mood had sobered up quickly. Harry wondered why Draco had sounded so irritated when just a few minutes ago he was still teasing Harry about the protest issue. With Draco there were so many different personalities. There was the authoritative tutor figure, the playful friend figure, the concerned father figure, and then there was this. There was never a dull moment with him, he switched between personalities in a snap of a finger. Sometimes it felt like he was a research subject and Draco was testing him with all the programming questions as an over eager scientist would put a rat in the middle of more and more complicated mazes and time it till it found the exit. Other times it felt as if they were two friends, programming side by side, competing to see who could finish first with the most optimized code. Over the week when he was on his own over at Neville's it was impossible to carry on with the coding and timing himself. Neville interrupted him too often. He was a distraction just by breathing in the same room as Harry. So, the testing of his limits was going rather slow.

"Why don't we jump many levels higher today?" Started Harry when they'd reached the apartment. "Skip a few weeks tests that you'd prepared for me. Give me the toughest ones. Going step by step is so slow."

"Impatient, are we?" Asked Draco. "Okay, fine, I'll give you one from this week, one from next week, and so on, to four weeks in advance. Let's see how you do these five. But go in order, please."

Harry nodded his assent eagerly. He was also impressed that Draco had really prepared so many lessons and tests in advance. Being a tutor as well as a mentor must be taking its toll on him, judging by the lines on his tired face and the stiffness in his shoulders.

"Ice cream?" Asked Draco. It seemed that they both shared a passion for vanilla ice cream, something that Draco had a never-ending supply of in his house. Besides orange juice, of course.

"Sure. Can I have an actual spoon this time, though?" Harry called back. Last time it had been all fingers and they'd almost gotten it on the keyboard.

Harry took the huge ice cream container and tiny spoon from Draco and set out to work. When he coded he lost himself in his work. He forgot about his past and his worries. There was nothing besides the problem at hand and how to solve it. Even Princess, rubbing herself against his legs and meowing softly, hardly left an impression on him. The only thing he was conscious of was Draco sitting behind him on the sofa, eyes pasted on Harry's back. He could feel the intensity of that gaze, but he didn't know what it was for. Sometimes he caught Draco staring at him, lost in thought, with a strange expression on his face. Normally, Draco had an easy-going and friendly aura about him. But when they were alone, sometimes Harry glimpsed into his eyes and saw something hidden deep inside, something that Draco was hiding from the rest of the world but couldn't hide from Harry who knew what raw pain looked like. He'd seen that pain somewhere else. It had been in his own eyes; still sometimes reappeared there. It was the pain of having an abusive childhood and an unsupportive family.


	8. Frozen Yogurt and Encryption

"I'm telling you, frozen yogurt is better than ice cream," argued Draco passionately.

"Says the guy who stores ice cream in his fridge like the world supply might end tomorrow," teased Harry.

"But have you tried it?" Persisted Draco, ignoring his comment. "It's so much lighter than ice cream. You have to at least try it."

"No, no I haven't tried it," answered Harry. "It's expensive and a waste of money."

Draco pursed his lips. He extended his hand towards Harry, not saying a word. Harry sighed and gave Draco his hand, accepting the inevitable. Draco swiftly pulled him to his feet and out the door.

"Wait until you try it. You will eat your words," sang Draco happily.

"And if I don't?" Asked a sombre Harry.

"I will force feed them to you," announced Draco in the same cheerful voice.

"You are stricter about this than teaching programming," mused Harry.

"They are two separate and incomparable things. Some things are a matter of life and death," exclaimed Draco dramatically.

"I see," lied Harry.

They had finally found Harry's limitations and it seemed that Draco was in the mood for some celebrating. Harry wasn't sure what there was to celebrate about, wasn't it a dreadful thing to have limits?

He had passed any and all tests that Draco had given him during the past two months. Even though it was the middle of the trimester now and mid-term exams and assignment due dates were coming up, Harry still found the time to attend his sessions with Draco. He was extremely overworked. He no longer had the time to do other people's assignments and earn money from it and in fact was paying his rent from his internship savings. Every evening was spent in the library of the university revising or doing research for his many assignments. Reading research journals and articles took so much time and mental effort that he had on occasion spent the night at the library since it was the only facility in the university that was kept open 24/7.

But after two months of trying, Draco finally succeeded in giving Harry a problem that he couldn't get past. It was encryption and security. Harry had coded, and Draco had succeeded in breaking his code and decrypting the data. Harry had coded again, and Draco had gotten past the security again. It had gone on and on all night, Harry refusing to give up, Draco challenged to continue.

"I want to do it again," Harry exclaimed as they purchased their frozen yogurt.

"Big surprise there," grinned Draco. "How about we change it up a little?"

"Go on," said Harry, intrigued.

"I'll do the encryption and you do the decryption," said Draco, raising a spoonful of vanilla frozen yogurt.

"You're going to regret this," smirked Harry. "Bring it on."

"It'll have to wait till next week," Draco reminded Harry. "It's already Sunday evening."

"That gives you the time to rethink your terrible decision to take me on," bragged Harry.

"Have you done any cracking before?" Asked Draco, interested to know where Harry's confidence was coming from.

"No. But I'm a hacker. Hackers are way smarter than crackers so I think I can handle it."

"We'll see. Open up," said Draco, bringing the raised spoon to Harry's mouth. "Well, you already know C, Lisp, Python, PHP, Bash, and Assembly, so I'm assuming you'll be fine," continued Draco as Harry took the spoon in.

"Yes, and I know how to scan the ports and find the firewall and operating system, stop fretting," reassured Harry after he had swallowed.

"Well?" Enquired Draco, raising his eyebrows.

"Not bad," admitted Harry. "But I prefer the richness of the ice cream."

Draco sighed, defeated. "Fine. I'll finish this up; tell me more about what you know."

Harry frowned. "Why are you making a big deal of it? With all the other tests you just let me go ahead and do them without an interview."

"Harry, just, okay? Let me be a mentor."

"Yes, fine," Harry rolled his eyes. "I will inject codes after creating a buffer overflow and become a super user. The important thing is to be fast and not change anything, but obviously as you know I'm breaking into your system, that's not an issue anymore."

"No," argued Draco between mouthfuls of frozen yogurt. "I want this to be as authentic an experience as possible, so pretend that I have a system and I don't know that you are cracking it. Act with caution. Make sure you're not traceable, create your backdoor, don't change anything, get out fast. I want you to impress me, Harry."

Harry's eyes were shining. He couldn't believe it was to be such a realistic simulation. "Okay. I will impress you."

"So, tell me why we don't use C or C++ when cracking," Draco persisted.

"Because although they are machine efficient they consume time to write and debug so it actually is inefficient when time and speed matters," Harry explained exasperatedly.

"Okay, good," nodded Draco. "Now, hackers always hate crackers because people always associate them together. Although hackers engage in solving unique problems and open-sourcing it so that others do not have to spend valuable resources solving the same problem, general knowledge is that they break into websites and computers, the task that is actually done by crackers who are motivated by money. So, why are you not angry that I'm asking you to crack a system if you associate yourself with hackers?"

"Because this is not motivated by money and it's not illegal," reasoned Harry. "I'm doing this to learn new skills and improve my problem-solving abilities. Essentially, if I'm able to break into your system, you will know where the flaws lie and will be able to improve the security, so it will be helping you, not stealing from you. Basically what you're asking me to do is not cracking, because I'm not taking anything from the system. I'm gathering information about the flaws in your security and that information gathering is the essence of hackers."

Draco looked away, spoon in mouth.

"Is something the matter?" Asked Harry, going over his speech in his head.

"I was thinking that maybe you were right and ice cream is indeed the better choice," confessed Draco. "Alright, let's go."

That night, Harry left the window open. Being on such a high floor, the breeze felt chilly but refreshing on his skin. He hid under the big quilts on the bed. Sometimes he wished that he had a cat to snuggle with too. He was envious to see Princess always jump on Draco's bed at night and go to sleep on his pillow or by the foot of the bed. He imagined it to be rather nice to cuddle with such a furry and soft thing. In fact, other than the almost-friendship that he shared with Draco now, he felt rather lonely. Hermione was busy cramming for mid-term exams and had started her assignments since the day they had been assigned, so she'd been busy for ages now. Ron was busy being Ron. He was drowning in family issues; apparently something with their elder brother Percy, and taking extra programming courses that limited his time greatly. He was going through Microsoft certification which he'd thought would be much more interesting but had ended up being about system administration.

What's more, they'd all started with their Final Year Projects which easily took 90% of their time. Final year was no joke. All that Harry had to console himself with was the fact that he was to graduate in a trimester and a half. Working was so much easier than studying. He would be having multiple projects at the same time, same as when in university, true, but it felt more real because he saw the real-life application that it had and it was always related to what he loved doing.

His head turned towards the entrance as a soft creak sounded and a sliver of light fell through the cracked open door.

"Harry? Are you still awake?" Draco whispered from the hallway, peeking inside the dark room.

Harry contemplated pretense of sleep. Sometimes socializing was so much work.

"Yeah, what's wrong?" He finally asked, caring too much to push Draco away.

"It's freezing cold in here," Draco continued to whisper as he quickly entered the room.

"Well, it feels nice and cozy under the quilt," said Harry.

"Move over, then," said Draco in a normal volume, not actually waiting for Harry to move but squeezing himself under the covers.

"Wow, you're cold," admitted Harry as Draco's shoulder bumped against his.

"It's your fault for going around and opening windows in the middle of the night," complained Draco.

"I closed the door of my room! It's not meant to be getting out, how are you feeling it from across the hall?" Asked Harry. "Also, you have covers and a warm cat in your own bed, which is further from the source of the cold air. What exactly are you doing here?"

"Making a point so that you close the damn window," grumbled Draco, mouth and nose hidden under the covers, bright eyes peeking out at Harry.

"Well you should have done it while you were standing," Harry grumbled back, mirroring Draco's position. "I'm not leaving this warmth for a second."

Draco's eyes widened in horror. "So your brilliant plan is to lie here and freeze to death as the weather gets colder and colder?"

"No, my brilliant plan is to kick you out of _my_ bed so that you can close that window for the both of us," snapped Harry.

"In case you'd forgotten, this is in fact _my_ bed," clarified Draco. "This is my house. I own everything in it."

"Including that window, so go on and close it," Harry shot back.

"Which you opened," pointed out Draco. "So it's your responsibility to close it."

"So if I don't close it you never will? Even though it's your house and burglars might come in?" Tested Harry.

"That's not the point," frowned Draco. "Just admit it already, you kind of live here too."

"No I don't!" Exclaimed Harry. "I sleep over in the guest bedroom on the weekends. I don't pay rent, help clean or cook, or have any of my things here."

"That is a lie!" Said Draco, jabbing Harry in the ribs. "You have pajamas, a toothbrush in the bathroom, shampoo, towel, styling gel, a comb, an extra set of clothes and underwear, some books, chargers, and the stuffed dog you hug to sleep, which is adorable by the way."

"Don't touch Fluffballs!" Fretted Harry as Draco's hand reached towards him from under the covers.

"And you don't need to help clean as the cleaning lady does it every Thursday, and you don't need to help cook as there are no ingredients to cook with, and you're paying me tuition fees through the university which sort of covers rent," Draco went on. "So basically, yes, you do kind of live here, and it is your responsibility to get up right now and close that window."

"You make a sound argument, I give you that," admitted Harry, his teeth starting to chatter. "But I am absolutely not leaving this bed. It is so warm and nice here and so freezing out there. There is no way."

"What if I give you an A for the assignment?" Pleaded Draco.

"No," said Harry firmly. "But that's only because of my high morality. It has nothing to do with fearing frostbite if I leave this bed."

"Right," said Draco grimly. "Why did you open it in the first place?"

"It was refreshing! It wasn't this freezing back then!" Said Harry, trying to shove Draco away.

"I think we need to rewrite your vocabulary and how you define 'refreshing'," snapped Draco. He shoved Harry back, trying to make more space for himself on the bed.

Harry switched tactics, instead pulling on the covers to try and leave Draco out in the cold. Draco pulled just as firmly, holding on for dear life. They pushed and pulled and shoved and kicked until they both started sweating from the physical assertion. Harry, being closest to the window, finally felt warm enough to tumble out of bed and close the window. Draco was taking in short breaths of air, smiling triumphantly. Harry made a face at him and got back into bed, feeling exhausted after all the wrestling.

"Happy?" He asked Draco, eyelids drooping close. It had been such a long day, both mentally as he tried to think of encryptions that would hold Draco at bay, and physically as he wrestled with Draco in bed.

"More than," purred Draco, sounding grateful for the absence of that awful breeze that chilled them to the bone.

Harry meant to turn and smile, but before he knew it, darkness overcame him and he fell asleep.


	9. Cake and Competition

The fact that his birthday would fall on a Wednesday didn't hit him until it arrived. He'd never properly celebrated his birthday until he'd met Ron. Ron's family had a tendency to make a big occasion of any event that merited celebration and they'd done so for Harry's birthday for the past two years. They lived in the countryside so Harry and Ron couldn't visit them except on longer holidays but they always visited them on the weekend of their birthdays because Ron's mother, Molly, made the absolute best cakes. The family had taken Harry in as one of their own but now that Ron was so busy they didn't have the time to either see each other or Ron's family as often. This would be the first birthday in three years that he wouldn't be celebrating. Molly had called him and invited him over, but as Ron wouldn't have the time to go with him, Harry had politely turned her down saying that they simply had too much on their plates this year.

He'd thought he'd be used to ignoring his birthday, as he'd mostly done so for the first 18 years of his life. Neither his uncle's family nor his boarding school didn't care about anything concerning him. But now that the day had arrived he felt rather forlorn.

Ron had sent him a text message wishing him a happy birthday at midnight last night, Neville had been with him obviously, since they lived together, and had given him a hug, and Hermione had WhatsApped her best wishes, but that was about it. He didn't like to specify his birthdate on Facebook so that he'd know which of his friends actually cared to remember his birthday, but now he almost wished that he had.

It wasn't that he'd expected anything more. Neville's birthday had been a day before his and Harry had baked him a banana cake, but it didn't really disappoint him that Neville gave him nothing more than a hug. That was more than most would give. What upset him was how lonely he felt as he walked around campus and passed his classmates without them knowing that today was a little more special to him.

He entered Draco's class just as it was about to start. As usual, Nott had taken his seat. As he walked to his seat on the second row, he saw a cake on Draco's desk and froze. Had Draco somehow known that it was his birthday and gone through the trouble of picking up a cake for him? No, the cake looked home-made. Harry's cheeks flushed with pleasure. Draco hardly ever bothered with cooking something as simple as an omelet. The fact that he had gone so far as to bake a cake for Harry's birthday warmed every inch of him and brought a genuine smile to his face as he took his seat.

"It looks very well done, Theodore," Draco was saying. "And so much attention to detail. This intricate design is quite amazing. I hope it tastes as good as it looks."

Harry frowned. Was he missing something?

"Well, I made the chocolate cake vegan, sir," said Nott smugly. "I am completely against animal cruelty."

"I see," said Draco, his eyes lighting up. "Well, we might as well eat and celebrate your birthday first, and then continue with the class."

Harry's eyes widened further. What was Draco talking about?

"Yes, even though my birthday isn't for a few more months, I thought we should celebrate before the worries for final exams settle in," voiced Nott.

A soft applause and a few cheers sounded through the class. Draco smiled and started cutting up the cake, oblivious to how Harry's blood had started to boil. _Nott must haves somehow known that today was my birthday_, Harry fumed. _Wasn't stealing my seat and Draco's attention during class enough that he has to steal my birthday too?_

He started chewing on his lips, a bad habit that came back whenever Nott was around him. He wasn't particularly upset about Nott being in the limelight. In other classes that they shared together Nott was the same way; he always sat in front, answered questions that other people had answered but not loud enough for it to carry to the lecturer or tutor, and tried to steal all the attention. Harry hardly noticed any of that; it was no more than a minor annoyance, like a fly that flew around the light on the ceiling and made buzzing sounds sometimes. But in Draco's classes, he hated Nott with a passion. He'd explained this to Draco in great detail, his hatred pouring passionately out of him, but had yet to figure out why Nott overshadowing him in Draco's class irritated him to no end.

"Can't you just tell him he's wrong or throw him out of class or something?" He'd complained to Draco after explaining his heated and unique hatred.

"Harry!" Draco had laughed. "What happened to not wanting any favouritism and all your talks of morality?"

Harry had grumbled about that prick not deserving anything.

"Well, I can't throw him out of class, no," Draco had continued. "Nor can I tell him he's wrong when he's perfectly in the right. He's actually quite smart; I have to admit I do enjoy having him in my class."

"He's smart at stealing other people's answers," Harry said, knowing that he was being biased. He'd seen how fast Nott was able to finish the exercises and how efficiently and resourcefully he codded. Although he might have been snatching theory from others, he held his own in practice.

"Maybe you just consider him competition," Draco had suggested.

"Not in a million years," Harry had sniffed.

And so here he sat in class, feeling as if salt was being rubbed into his fresh wound. Here he'd been feeling lonely and miserable, and here was Nott teasing him with promise of cake and celebration but for Nott's far birthday and not his own present one. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair, entertaining the idea of abruptly standing up and announcing that it was actually his birthday, or at least refusing to eat the cake that Nott had baked to celebrate a birthday that definitely wasn't the right birthday.

In the end, he meekly took the slice of cake being distributed around the class by Nott as Draco stood at his desk and sliced more pieces. He could have sworn that the maliciousness behind Nott's smirk that seemed to be only reserved for him was better than any confession. _But how could he have known that it was my birthday?_

"Ginny says hi," Nott whispered as he handed Harry his piece of vegan chocolate cake. "She is such a marvelous date, wouldn't you agree?"

Harry's mouth opened and then closed. By the time he found his voice again Nott was long past his desk. Had Nott intentionally gone after Ginny just to haunt Harry or had he met Ginny and found a treasure chest there? His mind was going a mile a minute, trying to link everything together, but he was missing so many pieces. Asking Ginny was out of the question, the situation was simply too awkward. He took out his phone and messaged Ron instead, asking if Ginny was dating anyone.

After a few anxious minutes as he debated about whether or not it was acceptable to chew on his fingernails as his lips were chewed raw by now, his pocket finally vibrated.

_Are you sure you want to go down that road again?_ Ron had messaged back.

_A guy just told me he's dating her, it's for confirmation purposes only,_ he replied back.

_Well, she's told me about a guy named Theodore something._ Ron's message arrived in a few seconds.

_That's the one,_ Harry replied back, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead. That still didn't answer his question about Nott's motivation to get together with Ginny. He knew that it wasn't his business anymore, but he sent another message to Ron saying: _Watch him._

If he could avoid Ginny's heart getting broken, he would. No one should have their heart broken by someone like Nott.

Everyone seemed to be enjoying their slice of vegan chocolate cake. Harry had rolled his eyes when Nott had said that he was against animal cruelty. Nott was the very picture of people who caused animal cruelty. He took a bite of cake and had to grudgingly admit that it was good. It was rich and soft, with a moist chocolate glaze on top. _But it's mud compared to the cakes that Molly makes_, he thought arrogantly. He put it down after the one bite, even though he would have liked to finish it. He couldn't let Nott win this round. In his head, he was standing at this exact moment, coolly admitting that it was in fact his birthday today, and thanking Nott for the birthday cake, and saying that since Nott had made this accidentally on his birthday, he should make another one next week for his own birthday. Then the whole class would have cheered at the concept of a second piece of free cake, and they would have wished him a happy birthday, and it would have been that.

But as it was, he stood in the shadows, his misery invisible to even Draco, whose focus was divided between the whole class. When they were alone Draco was so completely focused on him that it still felt strange to Harry to feel something and not hear Draco immediately comment on it or even notice it when they were in class. He guessed that was all good and well, however. Ever since they'd fallen asleep in the same bed, Harry had trouble keeping the line between treating Draco as a tutor and as a friend. Although he'd crossed over the line occasionally in the past, it was an almost permanent destination now. He had to keep reminding himself to act professional, to not make an accidentally degrading joke on his tutor's behalf, because at the end of the day, Draco was still his tutor. He sometimes wished that they'd done their sessions in Draco's office over weekdays instead of at his house over the weekends. It would have been easier for him to maintain a professional relationship then. He wondered if Draco had been the same with his own tutor and whether it was an acceptable behaviour to take an apprentice to your house and have him sleep two bedrooms away from you.

But every time he had tried to keep Draco at an arm's distance, Draco would smile and look at him with that warmth in his eyes and Harry would forget everything he'd promised himself on the matter. He went through the rest of class, not registering much of what was happening around him, standing up when he was meant to, answering what he was specifically asked for, doing the exercises that he'd been assigned. This was the norm of the lessons now since Nott had taken his place as the walking dictionary, as Draco called it. He didn't bother trying to answer anymore, the humiliation felt too great. And since he knew most of what Draco was teaching, his attention wandered easily. At the end of the lesson, what brought him back to reality was a movement at the corner of his eyes as he was staring outside the window. It was Nott moving towards Draco's desk as everyone else walked out. Harry turned his head curiously, wondering what else Nott was going to ruin his day with.

"Yes, Theodore?" Draco asked, looking up from his desk.

"Sir, I wanted to ask you about the apprenticeship program," asked Nott politely. Harry gaped.

"Yes, go on," Draco nodded in encouragement.

"Well, I remember how during the first lesson you told us about how much you were able to grow when one of the professors took you in," said Nott quickly. "I was wondering if you would be my mentor."

"You want me to take you as my apprentice?" Asked Draco, blinking slowly.

"Yes, sir," Nott affirmed. "I am mostly satisfied with my abilities, but I still lack the confidence to enter programming contests. I think that you are a brilliant tutor and I would be honoured if you accepted my proposal."

Draco seemed to consider this for a few moments. Harry felt as if his heart had stopped. He didn't dare take a breath. _Say no, _he urged. _Please, please, say no_.

"Theodore..." began Draco with a sigh. "My time is very limited right now."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Of course Draco would turn him down. He already had an apprentice; him.

"But if you want to come and see me in my office for a few hours once a week, I can gladly arrange that for a student such as yourself," continued Draco.

This time, Harry did abruptly stand up. He picked up his bag and left the class, not once looking at the satisfied smirk that he knew he would find on Nott's face or the confusion that he knew he would see in Draco's eyes.


	10. White Chocolate Macadamia and Redemption

As Harry stormed out of Draco's class, his wrath was hot enough to burn down the university with Draco and Nott in it. After getting to the bus stop, he started walking home, too restless to sit at the bus stop and wait for twenty minutes for a bus. It was a half-hour walk at most, and he hoped that the exercise would calm him down. In his mind, the conversation between Draco and Nott repeated over and over again, every time more twisted and horrid.

He'd walked about twenty paces when a hand came down on his shoulder. Lost in thought as he'd been, he hadn't heard someone jogging to catch up to him. He looked over his shoulder at a slightly out of breath Draco. His frown deepened.

"Harry..." Draco started, sweat trickling down his forehead, concern burning through his eyes.

"No," said Harry as he shook his head. "You don't have to say anything. You've said more than enough, actually. You told me that you enjoyed having Nott in your class, and now you've just about taken him as a second apprentice. You're our tutor and it's your decision. We're all students. I don't get a say in this. I've been treating you more than a tutor and that's not professional or right. If you want to have Nott as an apprentice, go ahead. But I'm done. I have enough to worry about with all the mid-term exams and assignments and Final Year Project."

"Wait, wait!" Said Draco in horror, holding up his hands. "Just hear me out, it's not what you think!"

"Then, what is it, _sir?_" Asked Harry, crossing his arms impatiently. The sun was hot on the back of his neck and staring at the one who'd caused him all this turmoil wasn't helping matters any.

"Okay. Okay. See. There was this thing with the birthday and you thinking that I was favouring Nott and hated being overshadowed by him," said Draco, rushing through his words.

"What?" Asked Harry, blinking in confusion. "Slow down."

He sighed. As Draco stood next to him on the sidewalk besides university where the whole world could see what was definitely more than a student-tutor argument, Harry felt his heart rate slow down and his anger simmer down somewhat. There was such desperation in Draco's eyes, and in truth, Harry believed in hearing all sides to a story before judging anything. He'd been constantly judged by people who'd taken his uncle's family's word over his. He sighed and started walking towards his house, indicating that Draco walk with him. Even though it didn't seem like Draco cared much about anyone spotting them and getting suspicious about what a student was doing standing there arguing with a tutor, the least Harry ever wanted was to cause a spectacle. Although Draco did look young enough to be mistaken for a student, he had quickly become the most favourite tutor throughout the computing faculty and very well known, as well as easily spotted due to the unique colour of his hair. Draco obediently fell in step besides him, scratching his neck nervously.

"Okay. Now take a deep breath," instructed Harry. "And start from the beginning. Slowly," he said, as Draco opened his mouth, looking like he was about to start throwing rushed words at Harry again.

"The beginning," repeated Draco, sounding pained to have to slow down to a humane pace, "the beginning started when Nott came to me last week and asked if he could bring a cake to class next week, in early celebration of his birthday. I asked him when his actual birthday was, and he said October, but that he wanted to celebrate it now with his 'favourite' class before the hassle of final exams and presentations started. I told him of course he could bring a cake and that we'd be delighted, but obviously I got suspicious. It's now the end of July. To celebrate your birthday three months early… I'm sure no one is as vain as that, not even Nott."

Harry was about to disagree, but Draco put up a hand, not wanting to be interrupted. The path from the university to Harry's house was mostly downhill, and so both of them walked staring straight ahead or at their feet, not wanting a stray branch or piece of stone to trip them up even though they were strolling at a leisurely pace. Harry still watched Draco from the corner of his eye, wanting to gauge his every expression and judge how true they were.

"So I asked a friend in student affairs to check whose birthdays fell around this time," said Draco after taking a deep breath. "Knowing that you thought he held a grudge against you. It's true that when you told me he behaved pompously in every class, I dismissed your judgment that he was going out of his way to single you out and make you overly miserable. I thought it was just his nature to sit in front and answer questions and want all the attention."

Harry looked away sourly. He almost didn't want Draco to go on, but he was intrigued to know what had happened next. He could see that Draco was somewhat out of breath. Walking and talking nonstop was taking its toll on him.

"Do you want to sit here for a while?" He asked, dismissing Draco's earlier request against interruption.

Draco looked grateful. "If you want," he said.

They sat down on the green field to the left of the sidewalk. It actually turned into a hill further to the left, but was smooth enough where they chose to sit. Hardly anyone ever walked through this path as they all preferred the easier route of the bus. A few trees overhead barely covered their seating place in a thin shade, but even that much was more than a relief from the heat. For some reason, the evening sun was almost just as hot as noon.

"But then other students came to me and told me Nott was an annoyance too. They told me not to take him too seriously in my class as they feared that I would think he was one of the top students and favour him more. They all came to me individually, complaining that in at least one of their classes Nott was doing to them what he's been doing to you. Of course, I didn't take their word alone for it and went through their grades and contacted their respective lecturers. They were all first class students. Their lecturers confirmed their stories, saying that they had been some of the most attentive students in their classes until Nott had seamlessly taken over their spot."

Harry lay down and folded his arms under his head. The more he heard, the more optimistic he felt about Draco finally seeing Nott's true nature, and the more confused he got about what had happened today. Draco put his hands behind him and leaned back on them, still sitting upright, but more comfortable in the pace of the story, possibly feeling a calmer aura emanating from Harry.

"My friend from student affairs got back to me and surprise, surprise, your birthday fell on the day that Nott planned to bring the cake and celebrate his own far-off birthday. Needless to say, I thought long and hard about what to do." Draco paused for breath.

"All of this happened last week," said Harry, twiddling with the grass with his free fingers. "And you saw me over the weekend. But you never told me any of this."

"I will get to that in a moment," said Draco with an apologetic tone. "In the end I decided to let it play out. I decided to let Nott bring the damn cake, celebrate as he wished, and I trusted you to keep yourself composed."

"But why? Why not just tell me about it?" Asked Harry. He didn't like how needy his voice sounded at that moment.

"Because I wanted to surprise you," said Draco after a deep sigh. "I wanted you to think that I didn't know it was your birthday, and then take you to Secret Recipe and buy you a piece of white chocolate macadamia cake. I thought you'd be so surprised and happy that you'd forget the whole Nott thing. And then I was going to tell you everything that discredited Nott and that I now agreed with you about him and it'd be a perfect birthday present."

"How did you know that was my favourite cake?" Asked Harry. "Not even Ron knows that."

"Ron?" Asked Draco with confusion. "Is he that roommate you had while you were living with Justin?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, I would love to somehow take credit for being clever and figuring it out, but the truth is that I didn't," admitted Draco. "I chose that cake because it's actually my favourite."

"But everyone always goes for the cheesecake or chocolate indulgence," said Harry with a whining tone.

"I know," said Draco, wrinkling his nose.

For a few moments, they both forgot the solemn mood and smiled at each other. Then Harry's smile faded and with it Draco's. It did sound like a pretty sound plan. If things had gone that way, he was sure that he would have been more than delighted that Draco had actually known it was his birthday and had chosen to celebrate it with him. But that hadn't happened. Instead, Nott had asked to become his apprentice. And Draco's answer had been as good as a yes.

"But then Nott asked for apprenticeship," he reminded Draco with a chilling tone.

"Yes he did," said Draco, exhaling. "And I almost turned him down."

"But you didn't."

"No, I didn't."

"Why?"

"I wanted to see how he conducted himself in a private setting when there was no one else to overshadow," said Draco, squinting at the tree branches above with the sun filtering through them. "I wanted to see if he was actually fighting tooth and nail for recognition; if he was actually worth saving."

"Saving?" Asked Harry doubtfully.

"Well, that's what being a teacher is ultimately about, isn't it?" Asked Draco. "You become a teacher to make a difference in the world. You try and make better and more knowledgeable students. You try and save the ones that are on the wrong path but are silently asking for help. I thought his actions may be the loudest cry of help I'd ever heard. I thought maybe it would be in my power to give him the proper attention that he desires so much. I thought I could show him that there were better ways to stand out, that he didn't have to trample on others to get to where he wanted, that we were all a community of programmers that just wished to help each other and that by kicking himself out of that community he was only harming himself."

Harry looked at the sky above in wonder. He guessed he could see where Draco was coming from. He guessed as evil as Nott was in his eyes, to Draco he presented a soul worth fighting for. He wondered at Draco's character for the first time. He himself had often been accused of having an insatiable desire for saving people. He wondered what in Draco had caused such a desire, why he'd chosen to become a tutor in the first place, what his childhood and family were like, and why he lead such a lonely life. Harry himself was surrounded by people that constantly wanted and asked for his help. But whenever he'd been with Draco, no phone calls had sounded, no friend had ever come by, and Draco had certainly never mentioned anyone. If they shared the same traits, why did Draco's life look so different?

"If you were in my position what would you do?" He asked Draco.

"I would say that there was nothing to forgive, and go for that piece of cake," said Draco with a playful smile.

"Very well," said Harry with an exasperated sigh. "Draco, there are so many things to forgive, but I guess we can work on it, and we can start by you getting me that piece of cake."

Draco laughed and stood up. He held his hand to Harry to help him up. Harry took the hand, smiling all the while. He'd never noticed it before, not until he'd decided to push Draco out of his life, but Draco's presence, friendship, and mentorship, seemed to have filled this hole in the middle of him where he'd always craved something that he hadn't been able to identify. With Draco he felt happy, free, and confident. He felt unconditionally accepted, and that meant more to him than words could ever explain. He guessed that if Nott was as thirsty for attention and Draco saw a chance of redemption in him, then he would root for it as well. Feeling empty and desolate was possibly the worst thing anyone could ever feel, and if there was a chance that Draco would be able to save Nott, then Harry would hope for it as well. Now that he knew that Draco was looking at Nott and seeing all the twisted thoughts nestled there and wasn't replacing Harry with him but was instead trying to correct his behaviour, he felt that he had been rather silly and had misjudged the whole situation.

It was true that he still felt a slimmer of jealousy at the attention that Nott would be getting from Draco, but as Draco momentarily put his hand on Harry's waist to guide him forward on the way to Secret Recipe he felt that all of Draco's attention would always belong to him.


	11. Strawberries and Cracking

"Okay. I'm all done. Give it your best shot. It's impenetrable this time," said Draco tauntingly.

Harry grinned and set out to work. They'd been doing this all of Friday, with Draco setting up encryption walls and Harry breaking through them. Now it was a new day and they were at it again. Although Draco was better at encrypting, Harry was equally better at decrypting. He could always find that hole and squeeze through it. It looked like guess work, but of course it never really was.

As Draco watched, Harry slowly and step by step unwound his work. He just had to find the beginning of the thread, and then he could follow it to the end, not falling for the obvious tricks. At every progressive step, Draco's smile grew bigger and brighter. When he finished, Draco patted him on the back and they exchanged a grin.

"Is it finally time?" Harry asked for the thousandth time.

"I think you're ready," said Draco with a nod, looking nervous but excited.

Harry stretched out his fingers and twisted his wrists. He popped a few strawberries into his mouth. They'd introduced the reward system to keep themselves going. When Harry succeeded, he got strawberries. When Draco succeeded, he'd get strawberries. So far they'd all been sacrificed to Harry.

This was what he'd been training for. It was time to break into Draco's system. Draco set up the coordinations for it on Harry's laptop, which was strange, as Harry could have scanned for it just as well. It seemed like this was a very important milestone to Draco. He'd never been more serious about training Harry for any task, or ever helped him do parts of it. They were going to remotely access Draco's computer at his parents' house.

"Have you tried breaking into it yourself?" Asked Harry curiously before he started.

"Yes, and I couldn't do it," admitted Draco nervously. "But you seem to be better at decryption, so it'll be interesting to see how it goes."

Harry was starting to feel the pressure. He'd never seen Draco so tense. He went through the routine of double checking his own security and eliminating any risks of being trackable. He started pinging Draco's system. The device seemed inactive. He didn't back down. He was absolutely sure that Draco had simply shut off the ICMP protocol to trick him into thinking the device was inactive. Although that might have worked on others that would try to crack Draco's system, since Draco had explicitly asked him to crack into it, Harry knew that it would definitely be active regardless of the ping's results. Detecting the operating system (Windows) took some minutes and then he identified the firewall. He cringed at the thought of Draco having Windows on his computer. What computer major would ever only have one operating system installed on their computer? Especially only Windows?

Next came the hard part of finding an open port. He thought about using brute force, but left it as the last option since it was time consuming. Draco sat behind him, anxiety seeping off of him in rolls. _Is he that anxious about me doing what he couldn't do?_ Harry asked himself amusedly. The minutes flew by. Sometimes he would almost be tricked into a corner of detection, but he almost instinctively evaded it. Finally, he was through.

Draco let out an excited breath. Apparently that was the step he'd never been able to get through. Harry grinned. He had so much practice at walking through minefields and now it was coming in handy. An authentication process popped up next. Faking his way through it took more time than he would have liked. His heart was beating so fast and he was starting to sweat. He wasn't sure if it was because of his own excitement or Draco's which was almost tangible. He was grateful to Draco for keeping quiet; he needed all his wits about him.

The next step was to get administrator privileges. This was where his buffer overflow would come into play. Then he could do anything he wanted because injecting a code would make the system assume that he had higher privileges that he truly did. But first he had to find an insecure program on the computer. After searching for a few minutes, one appeared in front of his eyes as if summoned. He was feeling more and more doubtful that this was or ever had been Draco's computer. Why was it so easy to find an insecure program? Why was there an insecure program to begin with?

Before he could worry about it too much, his attention was taken away by the task at hand. he was finally in. Draco was now leaning over his shoulder, trying to take it all in. It was strange how excited he was. Maybe he hadn't had a chance to browse through his computer in a long time and was reminiscing. Harry moved on to creating a back door, refocusing on his work. Now he could come back into the system any time he wanted without going through all the preliminary steps again. He did it through the compiler so that a system upgrade wouldn't completely remove his way in.

He peeled his hands from the keyboard and turned to give Draco a brilliant smile. It was done. Draco however, was too mesmerized by the screen to return his smile.

"Want to take it for a spin?" Said Harry, getting up and offering his seat to Draco.

"Genius," Draco breathed. He gladly took Harry's seat and started browsing through the system.

"Remember not to change anything and get out fast," said Harry teasingly as he went to get them some orange juice, feeling on top of the world. Of course it didn't matter if Draco did anything or took too long; it was his own computer that he was going through. He could do anything he wanted with it.

Draco was too lost in the computer to give him a reply. Harry searched through the fridge and then cupboards, but no orange juice could be found. "Where's the orange juice, Draco?"

When he heard no response, he poked his head out of the kitchen door and saw Draco typing furiously. "Draco?"

"Huh? Oh, Try the storage," said Draco without taking his attention away from the computer.

"Right then," Harry muttered to himself, going into the storage room. There was a carton of orange juice in the corner. He grabbed it with some glasses and ice from the fridge and went back to the living room. By the time he was done pouring it out, Draco was finished with the computer. As Harry sat down, still feeling the accomplishment, Draco walked to a cupboard and grabbed some vodka. He put a significant amount in his orange juice and sat on a chair opposite Harry, swirling his drink, looking troubled and deep in thought.

"What's the matter?" Asked Harry, going over to sit by Draco. "Can't take the defeat?"

"Defeat?" Asked Draco distractedly.

"You couldn't break into your system but I could," said Harry more soberly, his sense of achievement starting to fade. Why was Draco acting so strange?

"Yes, you were great, Harry," said Draco, some life coming back into his eyes as he looked at Harry. He took a large sip of his screwdriver and looked out the window.

"Draco, what's wrong? Did I do something?" Harry asked, worried now. The pain that had seemed disguised in Draco's eyes was openly on display now.

"I had to do this Harry, you must understand," said Draco pleadingly.

"Okay," said Harry, not understanding. "What is it that you had to do?"

Draco sunk in his chair, gulping down the rest of his drink. "I'm so sorry, Harry."

"But what about?" Asked Harry, feeling more and more confused. He'd done everything that Draco had asked. What could be the matter?

"That wasn't my computer that you broke into," said Draco slowly, determinedly not looking into Harry's eyes.

"What?" Harry froze. He didn't want to believe what he was hearing. But it was hard to dismiss the evidence. He'd been surprised at the things he'd found, and remembered thinking that this couldn't be Draco's computer.

"That was my Father's computer," Draco said after a long exhale. His hands were trembling, but there was an undertone of excitement mixed with the dread in his voice. His breath smelled of vodka.

"But that's okay, right?" Asked Harry, wanting to rationalize this somehow. "He knew that we were doing this, right? He consented, right?"

"Why would he do that?" Asked Draco, finally looking into Harry's eyes and frowning.

"I don't know!" Said Harry, throwing his hands up. "Because he trusts you? Because he wants to challenge you with his security? Because he knows you want to teach me and enhance my abilities? I don't know Draco, you tell me!"

For some reason Draco looked less troubled, which made Harry feel more troubled, if possible.

"No, he has no knowledge of what's happened here today," said Draco, shaking his head. "But he was aware of multiple unsuccessful attempts to break into his system which were done by me in the past."

"Why would you have me do this, Draco?" Asked Harry in horror. Nothing made sense. "Were you the one who wrote the insecure program into his computer?"

"Yes," Draco admitted, ignoring Harry's first question. Any troubled features had left him. He was in full tutor mode. "He never knew it was me who was attacking his system, so he never suspected me of manipulating his files. I told him I wanted to check my email, and I wrote that program into his computer."

Harry stood up and started pacing. "You had me illegally break into your Father's laptop. And then, and then you took over and did something. What did you do, Draco?"

"You have to understand Harry," Draco stood up, holding Harry's hands in his and stopping his pacing. He actually looked rather calm as he did it. "I knew you'd never do this if I just asked it of you."

"Of course I wouldn't have! Why are you being so calm? You looked troubled just before! And now you look all jolly fine!" Harry shouted, pulling his hands away. "What happens if we get caught, Draco?"

"I looked troubled because I didn't know how to break this to you. I am calm now because one of us needs to be. I am fine because I know we won't get caught. That is the least of my worries. You made our location untraceable, right?"

"But I didn't know there was ever any real danger! What if I missed or overlooked something?" Harry leaned on the wall and slid to the floor, holding his head in his hands. "Why did you make me, Draco?" After a few moments of silence he whispered, "Was it always for this? Did you take me as an apprentice just to make me do this?"

"No, of course not!" Said Draco, sliding down next to Harry, holding onto his hands. "I only thought of it after I saw how absolutely talented you are. You are much more resourceful than me and you have a knack for solving problems and I thought now, there's someone who can definitely do this. And then I thought yes, why not. He should be the one to do this."

"You should have told me!" Said Harry, panic settling in deeper. "I had a right to know what I was doing!"

"You never would have gone through with it."

"That's why you should have told me!" Said Harry, wanting to take Draco and shake him. "What did you do, Draco? What did you do after I left? Tell me what I will be going to jail for."

"No one is going anywhere," said Draco patiently. Harry had never wanted to punch anyone before this. "I moved some files from his computer. That's all."

"That's all?" Repeated Harry. "That's all?"

"Yes, that's all. And I removed your back door, so don't worry about it happening again."

"Gee, thanks," said Harry sarcastically. "What did you move, Draco?"

"Just some files," said Draco vaguely.

Harry took Draco by the shoulders. "Draco. Look at me. We need to take this seriously. We have just committed a crime. Your Father will sooner or later realize that some of his files are missing. He will run scans, he will contact experts, he will conduct an investigation, and there is a high chance of him finding the culprits, which in this case, is us!"

"He will never do that," said Draco nonchalantly.

"And why not?" Asked Harry in a barely contained voice.

"Because the files I removed were sensitive," said Draco dismissively.

"What does sensitive mean? Just give me some answers Draco! Tell me what I've just been a part of! If anyone, I have the right to know!"

"I know you do," said Draco in that calm voice he'd adopted. "But it's a long story. You have to calm down. And you have to listen and not interrupt. And you have to keep an open mind until my story is finished, alright?"

Harry pursed his lips. This was the second time he was giving Draco a chance to explain himself. Wasn't that two chances too many? He got up and sat on the sofa again, his eyes burning holes through Draco.

"No. You don't get to set the rules this time. This time I'm in change. Now, here is how this will go," said Harry in a controlled voice, crossing his arms over his chest. "You will sit here and tell me the whole story. You will not hide or emit any information. You will not lie. I will hear everything. I will judge your story. If I don't like it I will go to the authorities and tell them everything that has happened. If I have to go down with you, so be it."

Draco sat down beside Harry gingerly, looking troubled again.

"Okay," he said softly. "Listen to me. This is me, and this is the story of my life."


	12. Tea and Blackmail

"I was homeschooled till I was eleven; it was a unanimous decision by my parents," started Draco. "The world I grew up in was contradictory to what I faced when I was put into a private school. The image that I had of my family was torn to shreds and I had to act differently and hide everything that I knew. Before eleven, I had no friends. I didn't go anywhere without being accompanied by at least one of my parents, my driver, or a bodyguard. I thought that all of that was normal. I thought everyone was the same, that we lived in a dangerous world. I never tried to talk to any strangers, never was allowed access to the internet, no outside influence ever provided any comparison to the life I lived."

"What life was that?" Asked Harry through his anger. He hadn't expected Draco to start that far back.

"A life filled with crime. My Father blackmails people," said Draco anxiously, twisting a frayed string on the sofa, avoiding Harry's eyes. "He never incriminates himself, of course, but has people working under him. They don't know his name or his face or anyone else that is working under him, so they can't give anything away if and when they get caught."

Harry found himself involuntarily leaning closer to Draco. He hadn't expected this. He'd expected anything but this, really. Draco had such a good character himself, always wanting to help and save others, that Harry had never even remotely considered a less than moral family supporting him. Then he remembered how his own relatives were and it wasn't so hard to accept that Draco came from a questionable background.

"The people who worked for him, they would find sensitive information on people that had something to lose. My Father would then have them contact that person, inform them of what they possessed, and extricate money from them. He never took any of the money himself. My family comes from old money; he never needed any of it. No, he loved the pure and raw power that it gave him over people. He would always brag to us about so-and-so being under his claws, that no person in power could ever be more powerful than him," said Draco, looking up.

Harry bit his lip and a few moments of silence passed. Something clicked. "Was he blackmailing you, too?"

Draco nodded. "I didn't think you'd make the connection. No one ever thinks one's family will betray them in such a way."

"I don't come from such a nice family, either," confessed Harry reluctantly. He never enjoyed bringing up that stage of his life. "But they never went so far as that. Is that the files you moved? Files on yourself that he was blackmailing you with?"

"Yes," said Draco, looking down at his hands. "But that's not the only files I moved, nor was it the only reason why I decided to break into his system."

"Then why?" Asked Harry, trying to make sense of this.

"Remember the professor I told you about who had taken me in as an apprentice?" Asked Draco softly.

"Yes, of course," said Harry. How could he forget? He was the whole reason behind Draco looking for an apprentice and why Harry was here now.

"My Father was blackmailing him, too," said Draco, sorrow running through his words. "He begged me to remove the files for him. He had been under my Father's chain for almost twenty years."

"I thought you said that people never knew it was your Father who was blackmailing them," said Harry, the word blackmail tasting bitter on his tongue.

"With Professor Snape it was different. He was a family friend who accidentally stumbled upon the files on my Father's computer one day," explained Draco. "My Father first blackmailed him into silence and then to do various other things for him."

"So your main reason to trick me into breaking into your Father's system was so you could help your professor be free?" Asked Harry.

"It was mainly him, but of course I wanted to be free as well," said Draco, a tremor going through his frame.

"Can I ask what's in your files?" Harry Asked tentatively.

"You have to understand something about my Father, Harry," said Draco, looking up. "Even if he didn't find sensitive information on someone, he would simply create it. He's not a man to take no for an answer."

Harry nodded. His anger was slowly disappearing. Was a crime justified if it was committed against a criminal? He didn't think so, but it did succeed in making him feel better.

"He installed cameras in my bedroom and anonymously paid one of my students after giving them the key to my apartment to come in the middle of the night and climb into bed with me," said Draco in a single breath. "It was an easy enough job for the student. No clothes needed taking off, just coming under the covers was incriminating evidence. By the time I woke up, the photos were taken and the student's job was done. Of course I couldn't do anything but throw the student out of my house after taking my key back. It was my word against a student. Any authority would have discredited my story. And no, don't look at me like that, you don't know the student."

"So you did nothing?" Said Harry, gaping.

"I smashed his cameras and posted it to him in a box with a bow around it. What do you think I did?" Asked Draco sarcastically.

"But why would he need to blackmail his own son?" Asked Harry, ignoring Draco's sarcasm.

Draco sighed deeply. He scratched his neck, turned to look out the window, and mumbled something incoherently.

"Sorry?" Asked Harry, straining his ears.

"I said because he wants me to marry," said Draco, turning back towards Harry.

"And you want to stay single?" Asked Harry, not comprehending. "Or he wants to choose your bride and you don't like her?"

"No, no," said Draco. "It's that I don't want to marry a girl at all."

Harry looked at Draco in confusion. It took a few moments for him to understand what Draco was trying to say.

"You're gay?" He asked, blinking slowly.

"Yes," said Draco softly, trying to gauge Harry's reaction.

"He blackmailed you to marry a girl because you're gay and didn't want to marry one," said Harry, putting the whole story together. "You still didn't want to marry one and your professor also wanted to be free. So you had me get into his computer to remove the files he was blackmailing you with."

"Yes," said Draco again, still looking at Harry as if he would explode at any minute.

"Well if you had said it to me like that of course I would have helped you break into his computer," said Harry, leaning back more comfortably. "Well, maybe not, but if that's how you started with instead of the dramatic 'Listen to me, this is the story of my life' I would have been complacent much sooner."

"You're now complacent?" Asked Draco, in shock.

"I suppose so," said Harry, shrugging. "I still hate that you tricked me into doing it and I swear I will throw you out the window if you do it again but I guess I understand why you had to do it."

"I won't, Harry," said Draco, taking his hands and looking at him with a grateful smile. "I swear I will never do something like that to you again."

"You always think things through and decide upon actions before you tell me about it and it drives me crazy," said Harry, exasperated. "If you just told me these things we could decide on them together and I wouldn't end up scared and angry every damn time."

"I know, I do that," said Draco, nodding. His relieved smile was still in place.

"But this doesn't help with your Father not knowing it was you who moved those files," said Harry, suddenly realization hitting him. "No one besides you and Snape would have the motive to move the files he was blackmailing you two with."

"That's _Professor_ Snape to you, Harry. And that's why that's not the only files I moved," said Draco with a grin. "I moved some other random files as well, some that were just normal documents, even. He will have a hard time figuring out a pattern and motive."

"But he'll still have a list of limited suspects, you at the top of them because of your knowledge of computers as well as being his son and knowing where his files were stored," argued Harry.

"He was blackmailing thousands of people, Harry," said Draco, shaking his head. "I moved hundreds of files. As he blackmails all kinds of people, there are definitely more people like me, considering how computer-oriented people are nowadays. And even if he knew it was me and informed someone about it, they still couldn't do anything. I have the files I moved from his computer to mine. I can show anyone who asks what the files I took include with his digital signature on them. By incriminating me he will be essentially incriminating himself. That is why he will conduct no investigation."

"But what if he has one of his subordinates find who the culprit was and take action against you himself?" Asked Harry, not yet satisfied.

"He can't do anything to me. I'm the one with his files; I'm the one who can blackmail him now," said Draco nonchalantly, waving Harry off.

"Are you planning on blackmailing him?" Asked Harry, eyes wide.

"Of course not, I want nothing to do with him," said Draco. "I will keep the files as a backup in case he comes after me, that's all."

"What if he tries and incriminates you again?" Asked Harry. "Other students, more cameras?"

"That's why I'm moving and not telling him where to. The only reason I've been staying at this penthouse is that he bought and furnished it and had me move here, to live in and later bring my future bride to. Now that I'm free I can move into a place of my own. Although I don't think I can afford to buy a house right now, I can definitely rent one. It will be closer to campus too and easier for the both of us."

Harry had actually been glad of the remote location of Draco's house. He got to come to the center of the city during weekends when he stayed with Draco, and he was sure that if they went down to the store no one from the university would be there to recognize and question them.

"When are you moving?" He asked.

"Well, I can't exactly tell Father that I'm doing everything he said I couldn't do now that he doesn't have any more files on me," Draco said. "That would be admitting that I knew the files were gone, which would obviously be as good as a confession."

"Yes," agreed Harry. It still sounded strange to hear Draco say 'Father'. Although Draco was only a couple of years older than him, the status of tutor still aged him and Draco saying 'Father' made him sound like such a young boy.

"He told me that I am to find a wife by the end of September. So at the end of September, I'll tell him that I didn't find anyone, and that I don't care anymore, he can go ahead and turn me in if he can bring himself to shame our family name so."

"How are you so sure that he does not wish to tarnish your family name?" Asked Harry, crossing his legs.

"Well, I'm not. That was always plan B as I wasn't sure that I would ever succeed in breaking into his system," admitted Draco. "But it wasn't a sure-fire plan, so I didn't want to actually dig my own grave unless I absolutely had to risk everything. I would lose my license to teach. I don't think I could cope with that. And I wouldn't have been able to save Professor Snape that way either, so I probably would have still continued trying to break into his system somehow."

"Well, now Snape is safe, and I guess we can still enjoy this place till September," said Harry with a shrug. "Tea?"

"Sure. Also, it's _Professor_ Snape, Harry," said Draco, watching Harry get up and go to the kitchen. "Does that mean you've forgiven me?"

"Well, not completely," admitted Harry. "But I see your reasons for doing it. I just feel like an instrument that was manipulated by you to meet your ends. To have the control over my own actions taken away from me, why it's almost like being coerced to do something I didn't want to do, isn't it?"

"You mean like what blackmail does," commented Draco dryly, having followed Harry to the kitchen.

"Oh, you mean you see some similarities between them?" Asked Harry innocently as he put the water to boil.

"I know what I did was wrong," admitted Draco. "And I know there are no excuses for that. I was making the best out of a horrid situation."

"So you would have rather lost me than risked telling me the whole story?" Asked Harry, taking out mugs.

"I thought I would lose you either way, to be honest," said Draco. "There was the risk that you would have walked out if I'd told you the story. You could have said, 'Oh, your Father blackmails people? I'm out of here.' No one wants to be around that kind of thing. There was also the risk of you rejecting my request to break into his system, which meant that Professor Snape and I would have still been under his thumb."

"So instead you went for the situation with the least amount of risks," said Harry objectively, putting the tea leaves in the pot.

"Harry, you're not walking out, right?" Said Draco, fretting. "You sounded like you were accepting and understanding, but now you sound detached and calculative and it's scaring me."

"I'm not walking out," he said decisively.

"The blackmail isn't scaring you off?" Asked Draco again.

"I'm used to getting accustomed to strange situations," said Harry coolly. "And you're against reporting your Father to the authorities?"

"I couldn't do that to my Mother," said Draco, sliding his finger on the surface of the cabinet.

"I see. As I said, strange situations don't throw me off," repeated Harry. "What throws me off is feeling used and being kept in the shadows. I've been looking at you as my mentor and someone that is more mature than me. But I can finally accept that we're around the same age and maturity. So from now on I won't accept you treating me as your inferior. I want to be treated equally, except when we're in class, of course."

Draco poured the boiling water into the pot and put it back over the kettle to let it brew. Harry's heart was beating fast. This was the moment it all came down to. Either Draco agreed to stop keeping Harry in the shadows or Harry would walk out. He didn't have any solid reason that could keep him here. Sometimes it felt like Draco needed him more than the other way around. Harry's programming skills had proved advanced enough that it didn't seem like he critically needed this apprenticeship, and although Harry was spending the time he'd promised to spend over at Ron's on the weekends with Draco, it didn't seem like Draco was sacrificing anyone to be with Harry, as he was always alone. So Harry's company would be missed by Draco while Harry would still be able to fill Draco's emptiness in his life, or so he hoped. He thought that he now had a better understanding of why Draco lived such a secluded life; he didn't want to bring anyone that could potentially be also blackmailed by his Father.

He wondered why he was okay with staying in Draco's life even though he'd uncovered the baggage that Draco came with. Although his uncle's family and the boarding school had gotten him accustomed to living in tough conditions, he'd never stayed there of his own accord. Now he was choosing to stay, knowing that the situation was much more dangerous than any he'd ever been in. Was his friendship with Draco that important to him? Before he could analyze it any further, Draco started talking.

"Being treated as an equal means what, exactly?" He asked. "Besides not keeping you in the dark on matters that concern you, I mean."

"Well, we can start getting to know each other, I suppose," said Harry, looking at the stove. "I mean, I know that we know each other, and that I know you a lot better after today, but if we were equal as friends and not a mentor and student anymore then I would like to ask more questions about your life and for you to know other things about me besides my study life."

"I can be a friend," said Draco, sounding doubtful.

Harry smiled. "That is the first question I want to ask, actually. I've never seen you with a friend; why are you always alone?"

"Well, at private school I did make some friends," said Draco slowly. "But we never really kept in touch. We all grew to be such different people."

"You mean you don't have any friends?" Asked Harry.

"I have Princess," said Draco, offended.

"Any human friends," elaborated Harry.

"Well, Philip, he cuts my hair you see, he's rather nice to me and we chat pleasantly whenever I go for a haircut," said Draco proudly.

"But do you ever see each other outside of his work, or talk on the phone, or anything like that?" Asked Harry.

"Yes!" Said Draco happily. "I call him and make appointments."

"That doesn't count, Draco," said Harry with a soft laugh.

"There's that laugh," said Draco, smiling. "No, I don't suppose I have a friend. I have dear colleagues, students, an apprentice, and a pet. That's about it."

"Okay," said Harry with a nod. It was as he had feared. "Now you can ask me about something you'd like to know."

"Why do you want to be my friend?" Asked Draco after a moment of thinking. "Why aren't you putting as much distance between the two of us as you can?"

"I don't know," said Harry, rubbing his eye. "I honestly don't know. I've had a rough childhood myself, but nothing as frightening as blackmail. I suppose knowing that I can get to your Father's computer and move any files on myself does help."

"You honestly want to be my friend?" Draco asked again.

"Yes, Draco." Harry Nodded. "Is it so hard to believe?"

"Well, yes," admitted Draco. "I've been nothing but awful to you."

"I don't think you've been awful all the time," disagreed Harry. "You were awful sometimes, but other times I really enjoyed being here. And I suppose now you have the chance to make it up to me."

He took the tea and poured it into the two mugs. He gave the one with the face of a cat to Draco, smiling at him.

"Here's to second chances," he said, gently bringing his mug to Draco's.

"Second chances," repeated Draco gratefully, carefully clinking their mugs together.


	13. Sandwiches and Obsession

"You're friends with the Algorithms tutor?" Asked Ron disbelievingly.

They were out at lunch, finally having found a day where their lunch times coincided with each other. Harry had dreaded this moment. This was when he was finally going to update Ron on all the new things that had been happening in his life. He'd kept silent so far. It had seemed so unreal, being Draco's apprentice; that Harry hadn't honestly thought it would last so long. It had taken him a few weeks to get used to the idea of being so close to a tutor, but deep down he'd still been too embarrassed to tell anyone of it. Not having seen much of Ron and only talking of classes and assignments had admittedly made it easier to pretend that there was nothing he was keeping from him. But now Ron was here, and his lessons with Draco had become a big and seemingly stable part of his life, so it was time to confess.

"Yes, I'm friends with the algorithms tutor," said Harry, not wanting to make a big deal of it.

"The same young, handsome one with the strange pale shade of blonde hair?" Asked Ron, needing to double confirm the story.

"The very one," said Harry, nodding.

"Does that mean he'll give you better marks?" Asked Ron with a grin. "Sign me up now!"

"No, no," said Harry quickly. "He's strictly professional in class. He treats me the same as anyone. In fact I think he's harder on me since he has higher expectations. I can't slack off at all in his class."

"That's unfair," said Ron disappointedly. "You would have thought that going through all the trouble of becoming friends with someone on the other side would have scored you some points."

"I think you mean it's fair," said Harry, laughing. "In class I'm no different from anyone else."

"But how did you even become friends?" Ron asked, intrigued. "They always put such high walls between themselves and us."

"Well, it started with me being his apprentice," said Harry.

He put up a finger at an open mouthed Ron and went to the counter to pick up his order; a steak and cheese sandwich. When he came back, Ron was ready with another question.

"When did this apprentice-thing start, exactly?" He asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Well, you see… it might have been… the beginning of the trimester," Harry mumbled.

"No!" Exclaimed Ron loudly. "And you didn't tell me? It's almost been three months!"

"I'm telling you now," said Harry, looking around and feeling on edge. "Not so loud, Ron, I don't want the whole world to know. The whole reason I didn't tell you sooner is that I'm still not comfortable with people thinking I'm getting special treatment or anything like that."

"Alright, alright, but you should have told me," said Ron, still too loud for Harry's liking. "Well, speaking of that actually, there's something that I haven't told you either."

"What?" Asked Harry, thinking that nothing could compare to the news he had just delivered.

"Well, you see, I've been seeing, erm, dating Hermione, sort of," admitted Ron, looking away and scratching his cheek.

"You don't say?" Asked Harry, leaning back, a smile playing at the edge of his lips. "Hermione told me ages ago."

"She did?" Asked Ron, looking at Harry. "What else did she say?"

"That she likes you, blah blah," said Harry, shaking his head with affection for his two best friends.

"I was afraid to tell you," admitted Ron sheepishly. "I didn't think you'd take it so well."

"Why not?" Asked Harry curiously.

"I thought you might feel abandoned," said Ron with an apologetic smile.

"Well, I felt abandoned when you took different classes from me," said Harry indignantly.

"That was because I registered late and all your classes were full!" Said Ron heatedly for what felt the thousandth time.

"I know, I know," Harry said with a smile. "Anyway, you have my blessing, if that's what you're looking for."

"Okay, continue with your story, will you?" Asked Ron impatiently, after going to the counter to collect his own order.

Harry cleared his throat and repositioned himself on the chair. He watched Ron bite into his egg sandwich and wondered how to explain the array of events between Draco and himself.

"Well, I went to his house every weekend and practiced programming under his care," he said finally.

"So that's where you were instead of at my house," Ron talked through a mouthful of food.

Harry cringed. "Yeah. Sorry about that."

"'Sfine."

"So after a couple of months we just grew closer, that's all." Harry shrugged.

"So what big bad secrets have you uncovered on our famous tutor so far?" Ron asked after swallowing a bite.

The first thing that came to Harry's mind was to say 'His Father gets a rush out of blackmailing people', but obviously he couldn't say that, so instead he said, "He's gay."

Ron looked at him and laughed. "All the handsome ones are, aren't they? Such a shame."

"Why exactly is it a shame?" Asked Harry, puzzled.

"Well, it's a shame for him, obviously, since he can't enjoy the lovely girls," said Ron, taking another bite of his sandwich.

Harry played with the crumbs on his plate. "I don't know. Maybe to him guys are lovely."

"Oh." Ron looked up from his food. "You're holding a rose for him, are you?"

Harry's eyes widened.

"I mean," Ron went on. "It would explain why you broke up with Ginny so quickly."

"No," said Harry, gasping. "I don't have anything for him."

Ron smiled and continued chewing. "It'd be fine if you did, you know."

"That's disgusting Ron, swallow and then talk," said Harry, cringing again. "I know that it'd be fine, Ron, but no, I have nothing for him."

"Fine, fine," said Ron, having swallowed his food.

"Speaking of Ginny," said Harry, remembering the whole Nott situation. "Has her relationship with Nott progressed any?"

"Not that I feel comfortable discussing it with you," said Ron, "but it seemed that they'd actually stopped dating by the time you asked me. She told me later on that they went on two dates where he mainly just quizzed her on her ex-boyfriends and she got so fed up that she stopped seeing him."

Harry nodded. It was good to see Ginny had some sense. He tried to think of what else there was to say, but kept coming back to what Ron had mentioned earlier about the idea of Draco and him together. He imagined how easy it would have been if he were gay and had fallen for Draco. They certainly had a better connection than what he'd had with any of his ex-girlfriends. On top of that, girls were so hard and complicated. Draco came with certain dangers, like the blackmail and being a tutor which made any relationship with him a taboo, and he sometimes acted on behalf of Harry without consulting him first, but he was also open to change and whenever they talked reason could sway him.

He snapped himself out of those thoughts, as it was an unlikely dream. He wasn't in fact gay, or he would have surely known by now. But was it normal to think of another guy's eyes, hands, laugh, so much?

They finished the rest of their food, talking about classes and how their mid-term exams were going, but Harry was still miles away. In his mind he was living in a cosy house with Draco, waking up with him in the same bed, making breakfast together, going to campus together, coming home at the end of their day to Princess, having dinner together, watching some shows or programming together, and then going to sleep in the same bed. It made his cheeks warm with colour; entertaining such thoughts.

He was about to leave, since he was done with lunch and classes for the day, when he saw a text from Draco. They'd exchanged numbers in the beginning of the trimester, but had so far only messaged each other to coordinate a meeting point on Fridays when they left for Draco's house. Presently, his text said to meet him at his office if he had the time.

Harry walked to the computing faculty with Ron where they parted, Ron going to class and Harry going to the lecturer and tutor offices. Surprisingly, he'd never been to Draco's office before. He took the stairs to the fourth floor, as the elevators were always busy and warranted a long wait. He went to the hallway connecting the staff offices and looked at the names on doors until he came to the one that said Draco Malfoy. He knocked.

"Enter," came Draco's muffled voice through the closed door.

The basis of Draco's office was the same as all the other staff offices. There was the dark wooden desk, the black wheeled desk chair, the windows covered in newspapers, the chairs lining the door, the bookshelves in the corner. But unlike the other staff offices that Harry had been to, this one didn't have an inch of free space. Every surface was covered with pieces of hardware, books, and containers filled with cookies and biscuits. There were boxes lining the walls. In one corner, three or four umbrellas rested. There were two printers, one on a chair and one on the desk. Draco had double the amount of bookshelves, but ten times as many books. Books were piling on dangerously high columns on the ground, having filled the shelves to the brim already. A big mug of coffee sat beside him on top of the academic calendar that was pasted to his desk.

"Harry!" Said Draco, a surprised smile forming on his face. "I wasn't sure you'd seen my message."

"I didn't reply cause each message costs me money," said Harry matter of factly. "Whatsapp me next time, why don't you?"

"Okay, okay," said Draco, getting up to move his bag from a chair in front of his desk so that Harry could sit.

"Why did you ask me here?" Asked Harry curiously. Suddenly, Ron's words came back to him and colour rushed to his cheeks again.

"Are you feeling a bit warm?" Asked Draco, concerned, as he went back and took his seat.

"I suppose," said Harry, looking at his fingernails and cursing Ron inside. He looked up and for the first time noticed the flecks of light blue in Draco's grey eyes. He stared at them in surprise, trying to discern their shape and whether there was any symmetry. It was a few minutes before he realized that neither were saying a word. Draco had been watching him in amusement as Harry stared.

"Sorry," he said, looking away.

"That's quite alright," Draco said with a soft smile. "Preoccupied, are we?"

"It's the mid-term exams and all the late nights," said Harry, coughing to hide his discomfort.

"I'm sure," said Draco, sounding amused. "Right, now, I asked you here regarding what we talked about yesterday."

"You mean the blackmail?" Asked Harry, looking back at Draco.

"I mean being friends and getting to know each other," said Draco, leaning forwards in his chair. "I would rather not say that word in public, Harry."

"Right, yes," said Harry, composing himself. "Of course. Sorry."

"It's fine," said Draco, waving a hand. "Now. I see you're not fully yourself yet so why don't we start with me first? What would you like to know?"

Harry shifted in his seat, crossed over his feet, and tried to think. There had been so many questions, and now all he could think about were Ron's words.

"How did you find out you're gay?" He asked quietly, playing with his fingers.

Draco leaned back in his chair and looked at Harry curiously. "I suppose I always knew. I had crushes on boys, I found them more interesting, I was drawn to them. The same as anyone knows they're straight, I just knew."

"Right," said Harry, clearing his throat. Thinking of Draco's childhood and imagining him as a boy brought a much more appropriate question to his mind. "If I don't say the word, can I still ask questions relating to it?"

"Okay," said Draco, nodding slowly. "Let's call it ice cream."

"Ice cream," said Harry doubtfully. "Okay, then, your father is an ice cream man, yes?"

"That is correct," said Draco.

"And you said that until you were eleven you lived a secluded life and thought that there's nothing beyond a life full of dairy products."

"Do you mean crime by dairy products?" Asked Draco, smiling.

"Yes," said Harry.

"Then yes," answered Draco.

"So how come you chose a life to fight ice cream instead of submit to it and embrace it? Why not become an ice cream man too?" Asked Harry, finally coming to the point. "That's what being a tutor is about for you, right? To make better students and better people who don't choose dairy. To correct their errors and bring them to the right path. Isn't that what you're doing with Nott?"

"It is," said Draco, agreeing. "I suppose it's Mother. She read books to me, fantastic stories. Stories of heroes that end injustice and dark ages. She showed me a better life, even though she never said anything about it outside of fiction. She still let me dream of a better world, and what child doesn't want justice and heroism?"

Draco spun a pen on his desk. He looked at Harry intently.

"Father wasn't very easy to get along with and that didn't help matters either. He always had expectations known only to himself, expectations that were impossible to meet. I always disappointed him and he wasn't shy about letting me know exactly how much. He pushed me further and further away from him, and those books and stories became my fantasies and whole world."

"How come you didn't become one a detective or someone that actively fights crime, then?" Asked Harry. "Isn't that what heroes do?"

"Well, my biggest hero was Professor Snape, you see," explained Draco. "He would tell me in private about prevention being better than a hope to cure. He believes that people are more susceptible at earlier stages of life and that it's easier to let them see a better way. Also, fighting crime so openly and opposing Father wouldn't be a smart move on my part, especially since he had the means to blackmail me and make me a pawn."

Harry nodded. "For what it's worth, I'm glad you are the person that you are today."

"So am I," said Draco. "Anything else you wanted to ask me about?"

"I think that's it for now," said Harry, blushing and looking down. He'd been staring again.

"Okay. Then we'll meet tomorrow after your classes and continue the chat if you'd like," offered Draco. "Right now I have to get back to work."

"That's great," said Harry with false enthusiasm. He would rather have stayed here to try and understand what was so intriguing about Draco. Maybe if he learned everything there was to learn about Draco then this sudden obsession would die down and these inconvenient thoughts of Draco would leave him.


	14. Marshmallows and Nerves

The end of September had come. Harry didn't have to look at the calendar to know that; it was evident by how much more nervous Draco looked each day. It was in the slight twitch of his lower lip, the darting of his eyes to the corners of the room as if making sure no one was there, the lack of concentration.

"Draco?" Asked Harry, rolling around on the couch to look at him. "Earth to Draco?"

Draco looked at him as if he'd forgotten that he was there. "Yes?"

"Did you hear a word I said?" Asked Harry, exasperated.

"Yes, of course. I'm listening," said Draco, turning to look outside the window again.

"What was I saying, then?" Asked Harry, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Something or other about your final year project," said Draco, waving a hand.

"That was an hour ago, Draco," said Harry with a frown.

"Alright," said Draco, sighing. He moved to sit beside Harry and hugged a pillow to his chest. "Tell me again."

"I was saying that Princess has sprouted wings and has dived out the window," said Harry with a straight face.

"That's lovely," said Draco, another deep sigh leaving him.

"You're still not paying attention!" Exclaimed Harry, giving Draco a light shove. "Alright, let's hear what's going on in your head, then."

"He's going to find out and he's going to kill me," whispered Draco, his eyes looking around frantically.

Harry looked at him quizzically. "Who?"

"Father, who else?" Said Draco, almost hysterical. "And don't tell me that this was my idea from the beginning and that I've made my bed and all that. I know, alright, I know."

"Hey, hey, calm down," said Harry, putting his hand gingerly on Draco's shoulder. He felt as if their roles were reversed now: with Draco being the one who was freaking out and him trying to control the situation. Only a month ago it had been the other way around. "What's done is done. We took all the necessary precautions, remember? And you still have those blackmail files. He won't do anything as long as you have those."

"Why not?" Asked Draco, his voice on a higher pitch than normal. "You don't know my Father, Harry."

"Because you can prove they belonged to him and then not only would he have reason to fear the justice system but also what the people that he'd been blackmailing will do to him once they find out that it was him who was behind it all," said Harry reasonably.

"He will kill me," whispered Draco, burying his face in the pillow.

Harry was at a loss. He'd never seen Draco like this; Draco had always been the one with authority and control.

"I'll make some tea," he said, getting up to go and do what he knew best: comfort food. Draco reached out and held on to his wrist however, not letting him go.

"What if I just found a girl and told him I'm getting married to her?" He asked, head still in pillow so that his voice was muffled.

"Draco, you're gay," said Harry matter-of-factly. "That's not going to happen. You just have to remember your reasons for standing up to him in the first place and make a stance again. You've done so much and come so far. You can't get cold feet now."

"What if you were there with me when I told him that I will not marry?" Asked Draco, his grip tightening on Harry's wrist. "You'd keep my resolve and make sure I stuck to the plan, right?"

"Draco, I've never even met your Father," said Harry, gulping. "There's no reason for me to be there; this is a private family matter."

"Harry, please," said Draco, looking up from the pillow. "I don't think I could go through with it otherwise."

"I'd just be intruding," said Harry, struggling to loosen Draco's hold. "It's absurd, Draco, please be logical. He'd turn on me thinking that I have something to do with this."

"You do!" Said Draco desperately. His eyes widened a moment later and he looked at Harry with worry.

"What do you mean?" Asked Harry in confusion.

"Nothing," mumbled Draco, burying his head in the pillow once more.

"Listen, I'm going to make some chamomile tea in your favourite mug and then you're going to drink it and calm down and we're going to revisit this subject," Harry said as he finally managed to free his wrist.

Draco's muffled groan sounded from the pillow. Harry found some marshmallows in the cupboard and took them out with the tea after it was brewed. He made his movements in the kitchen as slow as possible, thinking that space and time would do Draco some good. When he came back out he found Draco half lying on the couch, still clutching to the pillow and in a fitful sleep. He set the tea and marshmallows on the coffee table and sat on the ground by the couch. Draco was frowning and restless even in sleep. This was taking its toll on him. Harry guessed that it would be the first time he was standing up to his Father in such a manner. Would it be so bad if he went with Draco? If Draco really needed him there, did he have any solid reason to deny him?

_I've already done more than enough, _he thought to himself bitterly. As he looked at Draco's sleeping form however, he couldn't stop the fondness he felt from surfacing. A friendship wasn't about what one did for another, but what one's presence brought to another's life. It was true that some of Draco's more inconsiderate actions had left Harry feeling miserable and manipulated, but Draco's presence in his life amounted to so much more than that. Heck, he'd stayed Draco's friend even after finding out about the potential blackmail he could face from his Father just by remaining an acquaintance.

He remembered that time when he'd thought he'd lost Draco to Nott and the emptiness he'd felt. Draco brought out a lot of controversial feelings in him, but the truth of the matter was that he'd slowly made a place for himself and now thoughts of his potential absence were too much to bear. To see Draco upset and distressed… Harry would do anything to help him be happy again. If it meant that he had to be with Draco for moral support when Draco told his Father that he would not marry a girl despite his wishes, then so be it. He was sure that if the situation were reversed, Draco would agree to be there for him.

It was as he'd felt in his friendship with Ron: there was an equality to their friendship. They both gave and took from the other an equal amount. Draco had given him a place to call home, a room for himself, the part of a companion in his life. He'd let Harry get closer to him than anyone and had told him about the blackmail which surely wouldn't have been easy to confess to. He'd fought to keep Harry in his life. He'd shown Harry that he was important to him not just because of what Harry could do for him but because of the companionship between them.

He looked at the pale smooth skin of Draco's face and the way his eyes fluttered in sleep every now and again. He listened to his deep and slow breathing that would pick up for a few moments and then even out again in his fitful sleep. Almost on its own accord, his hand reached out and brushed a piece of stray hair back from Draco's forehead. Harry hesitated, his hand hovering over Draco's head for a few seconds, before lowering and pushing the longer strands of hair behind Draco's ears and away from his neck. Draco's eyes twitched and opened, squinting at him, and he shyly let his hand drop back to his side, biting his lip.

"You fell asleep," he murmured to Draco.

Draco nodded and yawned, stretching his arms over his head. Harry stared at his hand. Why had he done that? And yet, he would do it again; Draco's hair had been soft and silky to the touch, a sensation he'd love to feel again.

"How long was I out for?" Draco asked, stifling another yawn.

"Maybe half an hour," said Harry, looking up at him. "I brought you tea and marshmallows."

Draco's face twisted, probably remembering the predicament he was in, and he lifted the mug to his lips, ignoring the marshmallows completely. Harry popped one in his mouth instead, feeling awkward and out of place. Was it normal to like touching another man's hair? He watched as Draco moved his fingers through his hair to put it back into its normal do. He caught Harry staring and gave him a searching look.

"You have very soft hair," Harry said by means of explaining.

Draco shrugged and sipped his tea, still studying Harry carefully. Harry ate another marshmallow, searching for something to say.

"I thought about it," he said, sliding a finger on the edge of the couch. "I'll come with you."

"Really?" Asked Draco, surprised. "Why?"

Harry shrugged. He said, "Nothing better to do, I suppose."

"No, really, why would you do that for me?" Asked Draco, setting down the half-full mug. "I've given you nothing but trouble. Aren't you worried that Father will meet you and decide to blackmail you in order to be able to influence me?"

"I've considered that, yes," said Harry, nodding. "Which is why if I do this you will owe me big time. Like maybe a top grade in your class or something."

Draco scowled as Harry grinned at him, putting up his hands. "Joking, joking! I'll come with you, Draco, okay? I wouldn't feel right sending you out alone knowing that you felt so terrified."

"I am not terrified!" Stated Draco indignantly. "Maybe just a little scared," he admitted after a moment, picking up his mug of tea.

"Well I know you would have done it for me," said Harry, shrugging. "So I'll do it for you."

Draco looked down into his tea. "Thank you. You know I really wouldn't have asked if I could bear it."

"I know," said Harry, looking away, uncomfortable with this emotional talk.

The next day, Harry brought the bag of marshmallows with him to eat on the way as Draco drove them to the richer part of town. There was a more considerable amount of nature in these parts, houses were spaced further apart, and every family seemed to be a classic car collector. They saw many joggers with their dogs and there wasn't much traffic in the area. It seemed a peaceful neighbourhood. However, Draco's expression was far from serene. In fact, the scowl on his face became more and more pronounced the deeper into the network of houses they got. Harry hid his nervousness and inability to think of anything to say by popping in one marshmallow after the next, pretending to be absorbed in the surroundings. How he wished he had an invisibility cloak right about now. Even if it only covered him to his ankles, some coverage was better than no coverage.

Finally, Draco stopped in front of a four-storey house with light grey-brown walls and white windowsills. The tone of the house worked with the trees wonderfully so that it gave an impression of grace and agelessness. It was hard to believe that darkness resided within its walls. Draco swallowed loudly, looking at the house with misery plain on his face. Harry placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, exhaling slowly. This was it. They stayed in that position for half a minute with Draco staring at the steering wheel and scowling. Then slowly Draco switched off the engine, looked at Harry with steel in his eyes, unbuckled his seat belt, and stepped out. Harry followed him, standing by his side as they both took in the house. Frankly, it looked more like a hotel to Harry than a house where only two people lived. It was hard to imagine Draco spending his childhood inside that vast space or even running around in the spacious garden.

The doorman let them in. He bowed at Draco, gave Harry a suspicious look, and took them to a large room with a magnificent fireplace and armchairs that seemed more decorative than usable.

"The Master will receive you shortly," the doorman announced stiffly, bowing again and stepping out.

Harry tried hard not to let his mouth drop. People still said things like that?

"Wormtail always gives me the creeps," whispered Draco.

Harry nodded absently, studying the room. It seemed as if Draco's whole penthouse could fit into this one room. The furnishing was sparse and it gave the place a haunted feeling. Although warm and welcoming from the outside, the house looked hardly inhibited. Everything was sparkling clean and looked hardly used. Apart from the fireplace, a few armchairs, a mahogany coffee table, curtains, and very many paintings, nothing else was placed here. It seemed like such a great big waste of space.

"The head of the house throughout our generations," said Draco mockingly, addressing the paintings. "That last one is Father."

Harry turned to look at the painting above the fireplace with some interest. The blank cold stare of the eyes grabbed him immediately. The man's hair seemed paler than Draco's and it was much longer; tied at the back with a ribbon. There was no life in the eyes and Harry kept coming back to them, trying to find the slightest hint of a smile or warmth. Midnight blue rich clothes covered the man in the painting, and it seemed of a different era completely. Harry was ready to bolt. Surely Draco could handle it now that they were here.

One look at Draco cut straight through his plans of escape. Cold sweat lined his forehead and his fingers were trembling, visible even in his pockets. Harry extended his hand and gripped Draco's wrist. He was faced with a blank stare, one that was not unlike the one in the painting.

"It'll be over soon," he muttered to Draco, squeezing his wrist.

He was relieved as some emotion entered Draco's eyes and softened them. "One way or another," said Draco, exhaling nervously.

The man that stepped through the door next could have just as easily stepped out of that painting. Harry looked back at the painting just to make sure it was still there. Draco's Father had the same immaculate hair tied at the back with a ribbon, the same cold and penetrating eyes, and the lines in his face seemed etched into an ever-lasting frown. As his eyes fell on Draco however, a small smile appeared on his face which made him look decades younger. Harry wondered what had hardened him so.

"Draco!" He said, raising both hands towards him.

"Father," said Draco, nodding.

"And who is this?" He asked, turning to look at Harry. His calculative eyes sent chills down Harry's spine. Harry tried to smile.

"Harry Potter," he said, raising his hand. "Sir," he added hastily.

"A friend of yours, Draco?" His Father asked, looking at Harry's extended hand. "It's been so long since you brought one of those home."

Harry dropped his hand and tried hard not to scowl. He looked at Draco.

"Yes, a friend," said Draco, looking at Harry.

"Well, as you know, I'm Lucius Malfoy," said the senior Malfoy, raising a hand to himself. "I am the current head of the Malfoy family, and I am glad to be receiving you today."

The cold stare he directed towards Harry was far from glad, however.

"You'd have to forgive my wife," Lucius Malfoy went on. "She presently has her hands tied in another matter."

Harry didn't say anything. It seemed that Lucius Malfoy didn't need any incentive to go on talking.

"Now, Draco, it is the end of September, is it not?" Asked Lucius Malfoy, clapping his hands together.

Draco didn't say anything. It seemed that he also knew that his Father wasn't really looking for a reply.

"So where is this future wife of yours?" Lucius Malfoy asked, looking around the room as if Draco was hiding her somewhere. "Where is our bride-to-be?"

"There is no bride-to-be," said Draco, looking his Father straight in the eyes even though his hands were still trembling in his pockets. Harry wished he could reach out and steady them, to remind Draco that he was here. But that seemed like a sign of weakness in front of his Father, so he instead clutched his hands into fists.

"You didn't bring her with you?" Asked Lucius Malfoy, seemingly surprised. "And instead you brought this… friend?"

Harry didn't like the hostile look on Lucius Malfoy's face that was directed towards him.

"There is no girl, Father," said Draco again. "I am not marrying."

"Of course you are, I never got these jokes of yours that you like to play on me, be serious, Draco," Lucius Malfoy said with a scowl. "Now tell me her name. Is she from an upstanding family? Who are her parents?"

"There is no girl," repeated Draco slowly. "When will you accept me as who I am, Father? I cannot and will not marry a girl."

Harry looked at Draco with pride. There. He had finally said it. Lucius Malfoy snarled.

"You're still going on with that nonsense?" He asked, his voice rising angrily. "A Malfoy will marry and continue the family line. This is out of the question. If you cannot find a girl, I will find one for you."

"And if I refuse you?" Asked Draco, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You will not refuse me," Lucius Malfoy said, his voice levelled and dangerous. "You know what I am capable of, Draco. Do not challenge me. I am the head of the Malfoy family; you will obey me."

"I care not for your fortune or name," said Draco coolly. "Do what you will. I will not marry."

Lucius Malfoy glowered at Draco. He gripped the black cane that he was holding tightly, brought it up, and then hit it hard against the ground. It was obvious that he was not used to being denied instead of feared.

"You will not talk to me as such in my own house," he said, spitting profusely. "Where is this delusion and defiance coming from? What is fueling it?"

His hostile stare turned on Harry once more. "Are you the cause of this disease? Are you his new boy-toy? Are you filling his head with lies and having him turn on me? You foolish boy! Do you not know his past? Of course he hasn't told you, you are a passing matter, you are not worth anything, why should he tell you anything? He was in bed with one of his students, yes, he was. And I have proof of it! I can give it to the authorities at any time! I have not done so out of the goodness of my heart but if I hear about this nonsense for one more second I very well shall!"

Harry looked at Lucius Malfoy, hatred running through his veins. Draco looked at him, openly frightened now, for he could sense that Harry was about to snap. He shook his head at Harry, but it was too late. Not only did this man have the audacity to blackmail people, namely his own Son, but now here he was acting the part of an innocent and concerned Father. Harry stepped forward, capturing his full attention, and raised a finger to Lucius Malfoy's chest.

"Now, _Sir_, you listen here," he said angrily. He knew this was a bad decision but could hardly stop the words from coming. He wanted to shock and soil and silence this devil of a man so that he would crawl back into whatever hole he had come from. It was clear that Draco was not interested in salvaging their family relationship, and so he felt free that he could say what he wanted, and so he did. "I am not a boy-toy, I am his boyfriend."

Lucius Malfoy's face had some colour for the first time. He stepped back, incredulous.

"Get this filth out of my house," he hollered, bringing up his cane between them, as if it was an infectious disease that could be halted that way.

"And he has told me everything," Harry went on, not stopping there. "He has told me about the blackmail."

Lucius Malfoy was trembling now, head to toe.

"You can't prove any of that!" He shouted angrily, waving his cane around. "He has told you lies, lies!"

"I have the proof," said Harry dangerously. Draco was not doing anything to stop him, and so Harry went on. "I cracked your system and took away all your files, isn't that right, darling?" Harry asked, snaking his hand through Draco's.

"Y-yes," stammered Draco, shocked at this development.

"You!" Shouted Lucius, pointing an accusing finger at Harry. "You are the one who infiltrated my system! I will have you arrested!"

"You shall do no such thing," said Harry coolly. "I hold all the power here, you puny insignificant man. I have your files, I have your digital signature on them, and I can just as easily distribute it to the people you've been blackmailing or the police. I am the one who can get you arrested, not the other way around, let's get that clear."

He put his hand around Draco's waist, watching Lucius Malfoy fume.

"How dare you come into my house and… and… touch my Son!" Lucius Malfoy spewed. "You are the devil! You will pay for this!"

"I will do as I please," said Harry, leaning around and giving Draco a kiss on the mouth. He felt powerful with adrenaline, as if he was invincible. At the time, it felt just as normal as any other thing that he was doing. "And you do not have the power to stop me. Now, we only came here today to set the record straight. We own you. When Draco says he will not marry a girl, you say very well, and we leave. Is that understood? I don't want any more trouble from you. I hear anything and the files will find their recipients, believe me."

Lucius Malfoy gritted his teeth and gripped the cane more tightly. "Wormtail! Show these… people… out!"

"We know the way out," Harry said, taking his leave, still hand in hand with Draco who seemed stunned.

His adrenaline rush lasted till they were halfway home. However, the crash came suddenly and absolutely. He was left trembling and holding his head in his hands, rocking back and forth in the car seat.

"What have I done?" He whispered. "Draco, what have I done?"

"I think you just crushed my Father," said Draco, still not fully recovered.

"Oh no," moaned Harry. "I ruined it! I ruined everything!"

"I think you might have in fact fixed everything," said Draco quietly.

"Now he knows it was us!" Harry exclaimed. "We're screwed, oh, we're so screwed."

"I'm not so sure about that," said Draco. "I think you scared him half to death and he will leave us alone now."

"I kissed you on the mouth! Oh, God!" Said Harry, misery hitting him in waves.

"You did, didn't you?" Asked Draco in wonder.

"I kissed you on the mouth," Harry repeated, trying to disappear.

Having his head buried in his hands, he didn't see the small pleased smile that appeared on Draco's face.


	15. French Toast and Moving

It was finals week. Ron and Harry, as true to their last minute nature, had put off studying for as long as possible. Now, the late nights that they were pulling off to compensate for the lost time was filling them with misery and regret. Since they lived apart now, their study regime was conducted separately; but a togetherness was achieved by complaining about repetitive information in consecutive chapters and victoriously announcing the end of each chapter to each other on Facebook. Summaries were made and summaries of summaries were made. Feelings of regret for not attending important lectures for such reasons as not wanting to wake up early in the morning or skipping class to finish assignments on time haunted them.

What's more, Harry had to worry about Draco on top of everything else. Draco, not wanting to live in the hostel provided by the university, and not having the time to find a place of his own, had been staying with Harry and Neville. This made the finals week even more stressful on Harry as Draco kept pushing him to study. Yet, he couldn't leave and stay at Ron's because Neville didn't want to be left alone with a "strange man", as he put it. The fact of the matter was that Draco wasn't doing much to communicate with Neville, and this made life all the harder for Harry.

Living in a small studio apartment with two other men was taking its toll. Draco wasn't used to cleaning up after himself and neither was Neville, so it all fell on Harry's shoulders. Neville understood that if he didn't let Draco live with them Harry would just move out and find a place with Draco, and desperate to hold on to Harry, he'd offered to let Draco live with them; but only grudgingly. And Draco, being used to living alone in a spacious apartment by himself, blamed Neville for his current poor living conditions. In short, neither liked the other, but both were stuck together through their connection with Harry.

Knowing Neville's prejudice against gays, Harry hadn't even told Neville the basics. To be honest, just bringing Princess over had almost been a deal breaker. At first Neville had been excited at the concept of having a pretty cat to put bows on and take nice pictures of, but when he had realized that cats came with cat hair everywhere, needed a cleaning of the litter box every time they used it, needed fresh water constantly, brushing, and constant petting, he was ready to be rid of it.

On the last weekend before finals started, Neville finally reached his breaking point.

"Harry," he approached tentatively. "Can we have a conversation?"

"Okay," said Harry, equally tentative.

"It's about an overcrowded studio apartment," started Neville, looking down and fiddling with his thumbs. Harry's stomach dropped. "I just don't feel comfortable in my own house anymore. And I really need my space back. It's been a month and I thought I could do it but it's impossible."

"Uh huh," Harry said, nodding. His heart was in his throat. Neville was kicking them out.

"I really didn't want to say this, but is there anywhere else you guys can go to?" Neville asked, looking away.

"Actually I've been looking at places. There are cheap unfurnished houses twenty minutes from here. Since Draco has a car, I think it'll be fine."

"Really? Why didn't you tell me you were planning on moving out? You should tell me these things, Harry."

"Sorry," said Harry, not sure why he was the one apologizing.

"No, it's fine," said Neville, waving him off. "When are you moving out?"

"By next week, I guess," said Harry, frowning.

"I didn't want to make you do this during your finals week, Harry," said Neville somewhat apologetically.

"It's really fine, we were going to move out anyway," lied Harry.

"Okay. Thanks for understanding, Harry," said Neville with a small smile, looking from Harry to Draco.

Harry got up to go to the kitchen side and tell Draco. He was met with a frown.

"I guess it's time to start looking at places," said Draco quietly, defeated.

"It's my finals week," said Harry with a quiet whine.

"I know, don't worry, I'll take care of it," said Draco soothingly.

"No, I'll come look at places with you. If we're sharing rent I want to choose the place with you."

"You mean you don't like my taste?" Said Draco, tilting his head to the right.

"I mean it'll be our place. So we should find it together."

"Okay then," said Draco, a smile on his face.

"I so need to study, though," whined Harry as he opened up the browser to search for an apartment unit.

"Says he as he continues to procrastinate," commented Draco innocently.

"This is not procrastinating! This is something that needs to be done."

"Harry, let me do this," Draco repeated, taking the laptop from him. "I think I know you well enough by now to know the things that you appreciate in a house. I'll find us a few good options and then we can go see the ones that you like too. You go study."

"Alright, alright," said Harry, putting his hands up in defeat. He went back to the soft black carpet under the fan that he had made into his study spot. Although the university text books were quite expensive to purchase, the library had an acceptable stock of the latest published versions which Harry and Ron were frequent borrowers of. However, unlike Hermione who read every text book and reference book for every course, they only glimpsed through those that were amazingly interesting subjects, and even then, they only read up on parts where their lecture slides didn't make enough sense. They did borrow the books planning to read every single page, they really did. It was just one of those plans that they loved to make but somehow never really went through with. As every course was taught from a series of lecture slides put up by the lecturer, Hermione was long used to printing three versions and highlighting and referencing the important parts for them.

Harry groaned as he picked up a copy of his lecture slides and tried to remember which part he'd already studied: definitely not a good sign. He looked at Draco's profile, already distracted. Having a house with Draco. Their house. To live in. Colour rushed onto his cheeks as he remembered the infamous kiss. They hadn't discussed it yet. In fact, he'd seen Draco try and bring it up multiple times, but he'd always changed the subject before Draco could even open his mouth. Draco had always indulged him with a small smile that said he was fully aware of what Harry was doing but that he would allow it for the time being.

Harry had such conflicting emotions about it that he had not even allowed himself to think too deeply about it. As it was, he picked up his pen to make notes and started studying furiously to stop himself from thinking about it. He was however quite aware of Draco observing this behaviour from the corner of his eye, his amusement flowing through the air.

"Found anything promising?" He called to Draco, calling him out on staring.

"Not yet," Draco replied easily, putting his chin on his hand in order to look at Harry more comfortably. Harry ignored him, biting his pen and trying to memorize the steps to configuration testing.

A few hours passed in this manner. Harry, starting in a crossed legs position on the carpet, had changed his seating position many times and had ended with lying on his stomach, propped up on his elbows, while Draco had made them both some tea and had found a number of apartment units. Considering that now his only budget came from his income as a private university tutor, their options were rather limited, so no penthouses. If Draco had been a lecturer with a Master's degree, his salary would have been higher. As it was, he was a tutor with a Bachelor's degree, and as Harry was paying rent from his savings with no income yet, they had to settle with living at least twenty minutes away from campus. Considering that a student and tutor living together would not have gone over well, Harry did not truly mind the forced living arrangements. A little privacy never did anyone any harm.

In the end, Draco settled on five options. He called Harry over and Harry fell rather in love with three of those five. They called and made appointments for the next day, as they were both free. Draco made them some French toast for dinner and Harry went back to studying, feeling at least a little productive. His feelings of hostility towards Neville had not cooled even a little, however.

By the time Harry was ready to go to sleep, Draco was already fast asleep. Before Draco had moved in, Harry used to sleep on the queen-sized mattress with Neville. But now, Draco and he had mattresses under the fan on the black carpet which they slept on while Neville slept on his mattress by the window. Princess slept wherever she pleased, of course.

Harry looked at Draco's sleeping form. Draco had his back to him, sleeping on his side. The sound of his steady breathing filled Harry with a sense of peace. He gently placed a hand on Draco's side and felt himself calm down with the slow rising and falling of Draco's body. Who was this man that could affect his emotions to this degree? Why was it so easy to calm himself down just by a single touch when nothing else had ever calmed his nerves during final exams before? What was more, this was his final semester of university. After this he had two months of freedom and then his work would start. Who was this man that could put all of that out of his head and make him want to go to sleep with a smile?

He kept his hand on Draco's side as he lay down beside him on the edge of his own mattress. Since their mattresses were singles and placed quite close to each other as the black carpet it rested on was not too wide, he was only inches away from Draco. However, the only sensation filling him as he closed his eyes was an odd feeling of happiness. By the time the still-awake Draco laced his fingers through Harry's though, Harry was asleep and oblivious to it all.


	16. Omelette and Kisses

"You know, if you want to kiss me again to see if it really felt good or if it was just the rush of the moment you are always welcome to try," said Draco with an amused smile as they lounged in their new house.

Harry looked up at him, terrified. "N-no," he stammered. "I mean, what?"

Draco snuggled deeper into the couch. In the end, they had rented a fully furnished unit on the eighteenth floor of a recently built condominium right behind campus. Due to its close proximity, they had been able to convince Hermione to move out of the hostels and into the house with them. Draco had taken the master bedroom and paid the most rent, Hermione had taken the middle room because she wanted to take full advantage of the amount of sunlight that the room got as well as the nice open view and paid the second highest amount of rent, while Harry had taken the small bedroom that got no sunlight and paid the least amount of rent.

However, it had not been like the time when he'd shared the small room with Ron. Although he got no sunlight again, he hardly spent any time in his own bedroom so it all turned out alright. They had gone shopping for things like cutlery and rugs and lamps as the house only came with the essentials such as the bed, couch, dining table, wardrobes, fridge, and washing machine; and now their house was so homey that Harry spent every waking hour in the living room, dining room, or kitchen. He only went to his room when he wanted to sleep or change clothes. They were in love with their house. They had even gotten huge soup mugs that they made tea in for each other as they worked and studied together on the dining table. Although Harry was the one who usually ended up cooking them meals, they all chipped in with washing the dishes and doing laundry and generally maintaining the cleanliness of the house.

Initially they had asked Ron to move in with them, but Ron's family had now moved to a thirty-minute distance from campus and as such he wanted to live with them rent-free for as long as he could. However, since he was dating Hermione and Hermione had agreed to live with them, he did stop by at times for meals or studying. When asking Hermione to move in with them, it had helped that Ron had already filled her in on the friendship between Draco and Harry or she would have been mortified at the idea of living with a tutor. Originally she had talked about all the meals she would cook for them and how living together would be the best idea ever, especially since her final exams had ended by the time Harry asked her. However, she had been so preoccupied with making study notes and schedules for Harry's exams that she hadn't found the time to start implementing any of the ethnic dishes she had been so excited to make.

Instead, Harry had become the mother of the house. He just mixed anything he liked, like eggs and fries, and for some reason they usually turned out alright. In the midst of all the moving and house shopping and cooking, he'd still managed to get through his final exams. Now he needed to wait for the exam results to come out and then he could start working. It filled him with a sort of dread as the finality of adulthood settled on him.

Somehow now that the balance of the kitchen had fallen into Harry's hands Hermione had just given up on ever cooking them anything, it seemed. She just loved to plan it, but she said that she lacked the confidence to actually start cooking. As someone who had gone through all of this from childhood, Harry was more than alright with taking the cooking into his own hands. It was a nice outlet for his creativity. He'd even finally nailed the making of white rice and it annoyed him when people asked him how he made rice without a rice cooker.

"I'm just saying," Draco continued luxuriously, "I've seen you stare at my lips and if you're not going to talk about it then I will."

Harry opened his mouth but no sound came out. He swallowed and shifted his weight. He'd been walking to open a window when Draco had ambushed him with this, and now he was frozen in front of the couch, not knowing what to do with himself. His eyes involuntarily rested on Draco's lips and he cursed himself for the victorious smile he found there.

"And it's not just the staring," Draco went on. The lid was off and everything was pouring out now. "I've seen how you linger when you accidentally brush against me. I was awake whenever you secretly held my hand as you fell asleep at Neville's house."

Princess came and brushed herself against Harry's leg, jumped on the coffee table between Draco and him and started meowing softly, wondering why no one was petting her. Harry felt his cheeks heat up and he knew his whole face was getting redder by the second.

"I-I," he stammered again, completely at a loss.

"Look, it's completely normal for you to be curious. I know you're feeling a jumble of feelings and it's hard to sort through them. So I'm offering. If you want to try kissing me again, I'm right here; ready and willing."

"Willing?" Harry squeaked. He cleared his throat and swallowed.

"Sure, if it helps with getting you to stop walking on egg shells around me," Draco nodded. "I see all this doubt on your face and I'm just trying to help get it over with. Now come here." Harry gaped as Draco got up and pulled him over to the sofa.

They sat down, facing each other; Harry wide-eyed and hardly breathing, Draco somewhat less sure of himself but ready to go forward with this plan nonetheless. He held on to Harry's shoulders, looked him in the eyes, and smiled encouragingly.

"Okay, Harry. I'm going to make this even easier for you. We're going to pretend the next few minutes never happen, so go ahead and do whatever you like."

"W-why?" Harry asked, not sure if this was a big joke.

"Because if I leave it up to you it's going to be months of inching around me, trying to secretly see if holding my hand or touching my hair or smelling my shirt feels normal or if there's something more there. Believe me, I'm helping myself by helping you. The sooner you figure out what you want, the easier my life will be."

Harry looked at Draco as if he was crazy. All this time Draco had known every single thing? He supposed he had been lucky that Draco had given him this much time at least. But he was right. This was going nowhere. Draco was stuck not knowing if he should read more into it or not and he was as confused about his own feelings as any person could be. Maybe this would actually help him figure things out.

"Okay," he said tentatively. Draco dropped his hands from Harry's shoulders and looked at him expectantly. "I can do anything in the next few minutes and you will forget it ever happened, right?"

"No, I will pretend it didn't happen," corrected Draco. "I will of course remember it how and when I wish to," he continued with a playful smile.

"Right," said Harry nervously. How did one go about kissing a guy? Yeah, he had done it once before, but that had been for show. Now he couldn't remember how it had felt, if Draco's lips had been soft or chapped, what they tasted like, if they had been dry or moist, if they had been bitable.

He blushed at the thought and looked down.

"Harry," Draco sighed. He held Harry's chin and brought his head up. Without giving Harry a chance to back out, he leaned forward and put his lips on Harry's.

Harry gasped. He didn't know what to do. He sat there motionless as Draco pulled back. Great. Here had been his one chance to figure out how he felt about Draco and he had been too stunned to even kiss Draco back.

"Harry?" Draco asked worriedly.

"Sorry," Harry said, looking away. "You caught me off-guard."

"No, I'm sorry," Draco rushed to apologize. "I shouldn't have pushed you into it. I always get too impatient and then I screw up every good thing in my life. Don't feel bad, I'm the sort of person who always creates things in my head and reads too much into everything. You think holding my hand when you think I'm asleep is bad? I bet you didn't know how I kept asking Justin about you after I met you at his house two years ago. I bet you didn't know how I asked the tutor of your Algorithms section to switch classes with me just so I could be closer to you. I bet you didn't know the real reason I asked you to be my apprentice is that I wanted a way to be a part of your life. And then you turned out to be this amazing coder and everything else happened and the Nott thing happened and I thought I'd lost you forever and I considered changing the place I work just because having to see you hate me was that painful of a thought to me. I bet you didn't know how I'd hoped things would go exactly as they did with my Father and how that's exactly why I asked you to join me. I bet you didn't know how I've been brushing against you on purpose and pretending to sleep early every single night hoping that you'd hold my hand again."

Draco stopped and took a deep breath. His hands were shaking. Harry looked at him with amazement. This was… this was, a confession of love?

"Oh my God," Draco whimpered. "Oh my God, oh my God, I never said any of that, okay? Okay? I never…"

Harry placed his hands behind Draco and kissed him, cutting him off.

"Shh," he whispered. "It's alright."

He kissed Draco again, and again, and again. Draco's lips were soft but chapped and all they tasted of was Draco.


	17. Vanilla Coke and Disaster

"You can't possibly be ticklish here as well," said Draco teasingly, tracing a finger over Harry's forearm.

Harry tried hard not to giggle and failed. He attempted to move his hand out of Draco's reach, but being in bed with him significantly limited his options. Draco moved his finger down his torso this time and Harry wondered again how he'd been talked into taking his shirt off.

"A little exploring never hurt anyone," Draco had said.

Harry's eyes stayed transfixed on Draco's finger. He felt contentment pouring out of every ounce of his body. He was happy lying here, letting Draco caress him here and there, smile teasingly, and steal kisses. Harry was sure Hermione had an inkling of what was going on; living in the same house with them and all. They'd spent more hours than not locked in Draco's bedroom.

Harry hadn't known love could be like this. He was used to love being demanding, fragile, time-consuming, and sucking out all of his energy. What he had with Draco was thrilling. It was new, but at the same time felt so familiar; as if Harry had finally come home after years of wandering, lost. His every breath hung on Draco.

They'd been in this strange relationship for a few weeks now and still every time Draco laid a finger on him it felt like the first time. Not being a student anymore, Harry no longer cared if anyone saw them together. It helped with the dating. They had created their own time and space. They were always alone together in a crowd.

They'd walk for hours, visit all the parks and ponds, and explore every alley. They'd go out at one in the morning because they couldn't sleep and come back at three and lie in bed cuddling. Harry hadn't stepped in his own room except to grab clothes. Most of his things lay in Draco's room by now. His tooth brush and razor were in Draco's bathroom, as was his pink grapefruit face scrub, coconut shampoo, and lime shaving cream.

Although Draco teased him about using products that made him smell like a girl, he hadn't objected to doing Harry's clay mask with him. They'd spent twenty minutes laughing at how silly the other one's face looked, making weird expressions at each other, and after washing it off poked the other in the cheeks to see how smooth it had become.

Harry smiled; both from the fond memories and from Draco's finger swirling around below his belly button.

"Let me guess, that tickles," Draco said, rolling his eyes and smiling devilishly.

"It does," Harry confessed, a loud laugh escaping him as Draco's nails slid across his sensitive skin.

"Well I don't think your daily dose of being tickled is over yet," said Draco, his smile growing wider.

"Don't you dare!" Harry screamed, trying to wriggle away.

Draco sat on his stomach and held down his arms with his knees. "It'll be worse if you fight it," he said with a laugh.

"Why do you always do this?" Whined Harry. "I hate being tickled!"

"Then why are you laughing?" Draco asked happily, tickling Harry mercilessly on his sides.

"Stop… Draco!" Harry said mid laughter, still struggling against the vicious attack.

"But it's so much fun," Draco mock-pouted. "Why should I stop? You're loving it."

"It's not… fun… for me!" Harry got out, gasping for air. His hands were slippery with sweat by now and Draco was so focused on tickling him that he was able to wriggle his hands free. He started poking Draco back on his sides, yelling, "Revenge!"

"No, no!" Draco screamed, rolling off of Harry and into a ball, protecting himself with the palms of his hands, trying to deflect Harry's attacks. "Stop! That's not fair!"

"But look, you're laughing and having so much fun!" Harry teased, continuing to tickle him here and there.

"Please, Harry!" Draco squealed, out of breath as well.

Harry stopped and smiled at Draco.

"Only because I love you," he announced.

The silence that continued rang in Harry's ears. He sobered up in an instant and straightened up. "I didn't mean…"

Draco got up on his elbow and Harry trailed off. He looked into Harry's eyes with wonder. "I know. I… I love you too," He said, swallowing hard. He fell back on his back, as if the weight of the admission had been too much.

They lay there for a while, looking at the ceiling side by side. Harry looked for something humorous to say.

"At least Hermione's not home to hear the screaming and the laughter, or she'd know for sure," he finally said.

"Oh, I'm sure she does know," Draco said with a snicker. "It's not like we're being subtle about it or anything."

"It's all your fault, you know," said Harry indignantly.

"Oh, is it, now?" Asked Draco, getting up on his elbow again, propping his head against his hand, and looking down and Harry.

"Yes, it is," Harry continued. "If you hadn't taken me to that meeting with your Father I never would have kissed you and we wouldn't be here now."

"You can keep telling yourself that," Draco said, raising a hand to brush a piece of stray hair back behind Harry's ear. "But we both know this would have happened sooner or later, one way or another."

Harry stuck out his tongue at Draco, which Draco felt helpless but to kiss.

The kiss was playful and gentle, with Draco on top, as it usually was. When they broke it off Harry looked into those smiling eyes above him. He really did love Draco. He wasn't sure when it had happened. Maybe it had been true for a long time now. He'd definitely felt protective of him; love wasn't too far from that.

"Draco?" He asked, his tone low.

"Yes?" Asked Draco, sitting on Harry's stomach.

"What happens now?" Harry asked, nerves flying around his entire body.

Draco tilted his head to the side. "Whatever you want."

"You know I'm not asking about _now_, now, right?"

"I do."

"You mean if I want us to live here, go to work in the mornings together where you go to the university and I take the bus to my company, come back home and make dinner together, and spend weekends sleeping in with breakfast in bed, we can do that?"

"Of course. What else would we do?"

"What about my room? No one is using it."

"Well, Princess loves being in there. Maybe we can turn it into a cat and guest bedroom."

"So I can move all my things here?" Asked Harry, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Obviously."

"Are you sure we're not moving too fast?"

"Harry," Said Draco as he smiled, shaking his head. "You're basically already living in my room."

"Can I move over a long time? Move a little of my stuff every couple weeks?"

"If it makes you feel better."

"Okay," said Harry, breathing in. "This is the first time I'm moving in with a partner," he admitted.

"Then we should celebrate!" Offered Draco. "And Harry?"

"Hm?" said Harry as Draco moved off of him.

"I'm honoured."

Harry couldn't help but smile as he pulled his shirt back on.

They went out for drinks. Instead of the closest shop they chose to go to the one that was next to the Secret Recipe they'd had their first 'date' at, even though it was a forty-minute walking distance. The walk in the fresh nighttime air was something they both desired and enjoyed. Draco got them two vanilla cokes when they finally reached the shop and grimaced as he drank it on the way back.

"I don't understand how you can stand this thing," he said with disgust, frowning at the can.

"Why did you get it, then?" Asked Harry, happily drinking his own.

"I promised you I'd try to like it, so here I am."

"Don't blame it on me," Harry said, taking the can from him. "Go get something you actually like. We're supposed to both enjoy this celebration."

They walked back to the shop to get a regular coke.

"Happy?" Harry asked, as they started to walk back home for the second time.

"Ah, yes," admitted Draco after a long sip.

They got off the elevators and everything was okay. Draco was telling him about his own time as a student when they entered the hallway. He stopped mid-sentence and Harry looked up to see what was wrong. His eyes immediately rested on the open gate ten feet away; the gate to their house.

"We didn't lock the gate?" He asked, puzzled.

Draco didn't respond as they moved forward. When they reached the front of their house, they saw that both the gate and the house door were wide open. Whatever had been left of Harry's happiness fluttered away in an instant and fear gripped him. Any doubt that he'd had of it being a robbery vanished when he saw the broken padlock on the ground.

Draco took charge. He put his hand against Harry's chest to make him stay back as he went in, taking the umbrella that they kept by the shoe rack with him. Harry shook all over. He didn't understand why they hadn't just called the guards up; the thief could still be in there.

This was stupid. Harry rushed in after a split-second decision. If the thief was still in there, Draco might need his help. He looked around as he got in. Everything looked in place. His laptop was still on the dining table where he'd left it. The keys were on the drawer. Nothing looked to be missing. He moved on to his bedroom. Everything was alright. Hermione's room as well. He went into the master and found Draco frantically searching through the pockets of all his pants that were strewn on the ground.

"Draco?" Harry asked, stepping in closer. "What's going on? I don't think anything was taken."

"My thumb drive," Draco muttered. "Have you seen my thumb drive?"

"Sorry?"

"Have you seen my god damn thumb drive anywhere?"

"I didn't even know you had one," Harry confessed in confusion.

"The silver one I wear around my neck," Draco asked hurriedly. He was still going through his clothes. "I took it off to shower and didn't put it back on but now I can't find it."

"That was a thumb drive? Do you think that's what the thief was after?" Harry asked. "What was on it?"

Draco looked at him with dread in his eyes. He dropped everything and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He rubbed his hands on his knees, clasped them together, and with a shaking voice, "All the files we'd taken from Father's computer."

Harry moved to sit beside Draco, his hands shaking. So it hadn't been a random robbery. This person knew exactly what they were after. How had they known that it had been on Draco's thumb drive? How had they known where to find it? How had they known it hadn't been with Draco?

"It must have been someone sent by Father. He's the only one who knows I keep everything valuable to me on a thumb drive around my neck," Draco said with a heavy sigh. "And he's the only one who knows I usually forget to put it back on if I'm on holidays and have no reason to take it out with me."

"There has to be a spy around here," Reasoned Harry. "Or they wouldn't have known we were out and how long we'd be out. They wouldn't know where you were living either. I'm assuming you didn't tell your Father where we moved to?"

"I haven't spoken to him since that day," said Draco, shaking his head. "You're right. He must have spies on me." He looked sideways at Harry. "On us."

Harry watched as Draco stood up and started pacing the floor next to the windows.

"If he has the files back, we're all screwed," said Draco, his voice still shaking. "He knows we'll try and take them from him again. He'll have more backups, he'll have data restore options, no no, it's worse, much worse. It's much easier to get rid of us than to always wonder if we'll be successful in striking back. He has no reason to hold back. We disgraced him. He'll want revenge. He'll turn in that video of me and he'll make something to incriminate you and he'll put us away where we can't do anything and he'll hold all the power."

"Was that the only copy of the data that you kept?" Harry asked desperately.

"It's not the kind of thing I wanted to keep in more than one place, in case someone accidentally found it and had the same idea the Father did," said Draco, curling his hands into fists. "It backfired on me. It's all because he knows me too well that this plan of his is working. If I wasn't so dead-set on my ways, if I had kept a copy with you…" Draco trailed off, banging a fist on the wall in his anger before he resumed his pacing, hands clutched at his sides.

It seemed impossible that a few hours ago they had been so happy. It had all been a fantasy. They had thought they'd be safe in their own little world when that had been the farthest thing from the truth. Draco had been right to fear his Father. He wasn't a man to accept defeat. And unlike him, they didn't have unlimited resources and manpower.

"We have to run," Draco continued in his half-crazed mutterings. "We can't stay here. He'll get us for sure."

Harry stood up and walked to him. He put his arms firmly around Draco's shoulders and made him stop his pacing.

"We can't run. This isn't just about us, Draco. All those other people we saved from blackmail. Your mentor, Snape. All of them are at risk again. Your Father has no reason not to go back to blackmailing anyone and everyone he likes. It's not right. We have to stop him. You must know that. We succeeded once, we can do it again. We are the only ones who can. We can't run," he said in an even tone. The surety in his voice surprised even himself. But it was right. They had an obligation to those people now, it had been their fault for not protecting the data better. They had to stop this evil in its tracks. The corruption had to end once and for all.

Harry knew this and still when Draco slowly nodded his head at him, it felt like the whole world collapsed upon him. Running didn't sound so bad now.


	18. Egg Tarts and Planning

"I'm back," Draco's voice sounded in the distance, followed by the door clicking shut.

"In here," replied Harry.

Draco appeared in the doorway moments after. Harry was sitting in the center of the bed in his old room, surrounded by bits and pieces of his belongings.

"Just trying to figure out what to bring over to your room and what to leave," Harry explained.

"Our room," Draco corrected.

Harry smiled. "Our room." With a more serious expression he asked, "What did you find out?"

"He's definitely back to blackmailing people. I saw all sorts of people going in and out of the house," said Draco, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Did anyone spot you?"

"I don't think they did. I kept my distance and loaned a car like we talked about."

"So what now?" Asked Harry, leaning back on his hands.

"If everything is back to normal, which seems to be the case, He will be leaving Friday night to transfer the money the clients bring him to his account. He doesn't trust anyone else with the task. Mother will be home, but I don't think she'll be in our way. The computer is in Father's study, on a different side from where her bedroom is. If she does intercept us, I'll distract her while you finish the job."

"Are you sure this is the only way Draco? What about that doorman? Wormtail? Or any other people? Doesn't your family have cleaners or maids or whatever? Maybe some guards?"

"We can't access his computer from anywhere other than its physical location. He's not connecting it to the internet anymore. He's too smart for that now. It's our only chance. There are cleaners, and guards, and cooks. We'll have to plan this, and plan it properly."

"I feel so far out of my element here, Draco," confessed Harry uncomfortably. "Computers, I can deal with. But breaking into a house, getting past all these people, finding the computer, and physically destroying it? Shouldn't someone stealthy be doing that? Not two computer geeks?"

"Who do you suggest we bring into this?" Draco asked, sounding more tired than ever. "Because I am at my wit's end over here. Who can we trust with this? We don't know any people like that, Harry."

"Actually…" Harry trailed off, an idea forming in his head. "Maybe we do know people like that."

Draco moved forward. "Who? You understand we'll be trusting them with our lives, more or less? And bringing them into this mess will mean that in case of failure we'll all go down together? Do you want to bring more innocent people into the line of fire?"

"They're not so innocent," said Harry, a smile appearing on his face, "As they are sinful. I'm sure they will be all in, and if they do get caught, believe me, they've done enough to deserve that and more."

"Okay. I'll bite. Who are they?"

"Fred and George Weasley," Harry said proudly.

Draco paled. "You don't mean…?"

"The infamous brothers who were in the same year as you but dropped out to pursue their pranking career? Yes I do."

Draco shook his head. "A couple of pranksters couldn't do what we are setting out to do…"

"It's perfect, Draco. They know the whole shebang. They break the latest models of locks just because they relish the challenge. They know how to cause massive distractions; they know how to hide and scare people… and they never back down from a good cause."

"What makes you think they'll help us?"

"They owe me a big one," Harry grinned. "Once I one the lottery for over a million dollars and I gave the money to them to start off their business."

"Business? They run a YouTube channel! You can't possibly be telling me you gave one million dollars to a bunch of YouTube pranksters that record people's misery and post it online so people can laugh at the misfortune of others?"

Harry shrugged. "It was more money than I would ever need, and they desperately needed it. It was right to give it to them. And their YouTube channel is the second most subscribed channel out there. You can't deny their skills. You're only against it because you were in their video that one time."

Draco reddened. "You don't know how embarrassing it is when all your students watch it, alright?"

Harry laughed, for once feeling like they actually had a fighting chance. Draco sighed.

"Okay. Yes, I suppose I do see what you mean. Old grudges aside, they may be our best chance, if they can keep their mouths shut about the reason behind it all."

"Knowing them, they won't even ask for a reason," said Harry happily, picking up his phone to call them over. This may have been the best plan he had come up with in his entire life. Lucius Malfoy had no idea what was coming for him.

When Fred and George got there, Harry was just getting the egg tarts out of the oven. He'd found the recipe by accident but ever since the first time he'd tried it he'd realized the magic it held. It was better than gold for bribery. It looked, smelled, and most importantly, tasted amazing.

"Open the door for them, will you?" He called out to Draco as the bell rang. He took off the oven mittens and went to greet them by the door.

After tea was served, hot egg tarts gobbled down, and some soothing milk was poured to wash it all down, Harry got to the heart of the matter. Poor Fred and George had no idea what was coming for them. They had notions of Harry inviting them over to talk about his newfound relationship with Draco, but as they found out, it was much worse than anticipated.

After Harry finished explaining the situation to them, they all sat looking warily at each other as long minutes passed on by. For the first time, Harry had told the whole story of how the hacking had happened, the story of Lucius Malfoy's blackmailing, how the ties between Father and Son had been broken, and how the files were stolen back and had fallen into the hands of their original owner once more. He left out nothing. He trusted the twins and found some satisfaction and relief in finally telling his secrets. He'd explained his plan to them as well as Draco's belief that destroying the computer physically was the only way.

"We're in," George said, leaning forward in his chair, his hands clasped at his knees.

"Wait, George," Fred said as he looked at him with caution. "We have to think this one through. If Lucius Malfoy is as powerful and resourceful a man as they say, careful planning and mapping of the house need to be before us before we can promise any results. What if it's not doable?"

"Of course it's doable," George waved Fred off.

"I can draw you the maps from memory," Draco offered.

"Brilliant," George said. "Now, if you will."

Draco got up in search of paper and pen. Fred sighed and rubbed his forehead.

"Fred, I know you believe that you owe you more than you can ever repay," Harry started. "But are you sure? What if we all get caught? This is not just a silly prank. It is a series of serious crimes. The money I gave you is not worth this. You can say no. I will not blame you if you do."

"Of course we'll do it Harry," Fred said in a heartbeat. "If it's doable, we will do it."

Harry sighed. Now that the plan was in motion he was much more concerned that before.

Maps were drawn out and observations and plans were made. Positions of guards and their general routes were highlighted. Little footnotes were added by Fred or George in certain areas as they planned how to get past certain obstacles. Draco and Harry looked at each other above those two ginger heads worriedly.

"There is always the possibility that more guards have been posted as I no longer am aware of Father's plans," said Draco anxiously.

"Yes. A proper in-person stake-out needs to be conducted," Fred agreed.

"Let's go, Fred, my boy," said George with a clap on Fred's back. "The sooner we sort this out the better."

And so they left Draco and Harry to their own worries and went on an "adventure". After going out and buying a bigger and sturdier padlock, Harry curled against Draco in their newly shared bed.

"Tell me it'll be okay," he whispered in the air, imagining that his words were leaving trails as they left his mouth.

"It'll be okay," Draco reassured him.

They both knew he was lying.

George and Fred came back the next day, looking worse for wear. "Wonderboy was right. There are more guards," were the first words out of Fred's mouth.

"The lucky thing is that they are put to work almost twenty-four seven and as such are mostly worn out rather than vigilant. It shan't be too hard to get around them with a few distractions here and there. We will manage it."

"We do have one condition," said Fred solemnly. "You two stay here. We will get the job done."

Draco and Harry started arguing at the same time. It was impossible, it was too big of a risk, it was Draco's house for heaven's sake, so on and so forth.

"Only the two of us go." Repeated George. "As Fred says. Or no one goes."

"I am sure we can get the job done on our own, thank you very much," said Draco, Harry nodding along aggressively.

"We can't put you on the line like that. It's all our heads or none at all," said Harry, his voice a stranger as it was mingled with such dread.

"Look, here's the truth of it: You'll just slow us down or give us away. We can do it better with just us and no one else to worry about. We promise that if we do get caught we'll state your names as the proprietors of the scheme," emphasized Fred.

"Now we had the impression that time was of the essence here," George continued. "So no more arguing. We're doing this our way. After getting some sleep and grabbing the equipment we need, we're going back tonight to implement our plan. You'll do well to stay out of our way and not mess with the plan we have."

As Fred and George left, Harry and Draco exchanged a determined look. They were not going to be left behind. Harry made toast, Draco made chicken, and they ate sandwiches and discussed their own plan. They would stay in a car nearby, move closer when given the opportunity, watch out for Fred and George and have their backs if anything should happen. It was their mess to begin with. They couldn't very well sit snug at home while those two took all the risk.


	19. Mud Pies and the Awesome Wig Plan

The cheap rental car was parked across the street from the Malfoy manor. With its faded colour and outdated model, it couldn't be more out of place. Harry and Draco were not in it. They hadn't been for quite some time; they had abandoned it as soon as the guards had started throwing suspicious looks at it.

It was past midnight, but there was still no sign of Fred or George. Crouching behind the trees over the damp grass was the most uncomfortable position Harry had ever been in. He couldn't even communicate his discomfort to Draco because he was terrified that the slightest sound would alert the guards to their presence.

Draco gave him a stern look that said stop fidgeting. The underlying worry in his eyes however, expressed their mutual concern over the whereabouts of the twins.

Another hour passed. Harry's feet were shaking from the strain they were under. His back was also killing him. Although it was a cold night, beads of sweat covered his body. Combined with his overactive imagination and aversion to staying still, he was having a hell of a time. He had already poked Draco in the ribs enough times that he was sure a bruise had formed there.

His whole body tensed when he felt Draco nudge him with an elbow. He looked towards the direction where Draco had his eyes fixed on. Two very ginger heads were poking out of a bush by the entrance gate. They were moving towards their direction, but as it was, a guard would spot them before they made it five feet.

In a state of panic, Harry tried to move towards them to somehow warn them of the peril they were in. However, his feet were unaccommodating. They were numb and not under his control. he fell over on his knees and was unable to do anything but watch in horror as a cluster of guards silently but swiftly moved towards the ginger heads.

Draco nudged him again and Harry was feeling frustrated enough to poke him back ten times harder but as he turned towards Draco he spotted the two ginger heads that Draco was looking at. These two heads were on the opposite side of where the guards were going. Harry turned back to look at the first two ginger heads he'd thought belonged to Fred and George but now that he was looking at them analytically he could tell that the two bobs of hair standing moving up and down towards him were followed by a mechanical sound similar to a car operated by controls.

He raised his eyes at Draco as the guards followed their pursuit of the ginger wigs on two remote-control cars, thinking that they were surrounding some amateur burglars. By now the real Fred and George had made it halfway to the manor with no obstacles in their way. Harry remembered asking Draco if any sensors had been put down but their fears had been put to rest when Draco explained to them how his Father wanted to keep everything quiet and deal with any issues on his own rather than involve any authorities.

As the relief of the safety of Fred and George washed over him, he felt Draco nudging him yet again. He turned with a smile but was horrified to find what was happening. The remote-control cars were moving steadily towards where he and Draco were hidden and the guards were closing in. By the time the guards jumped in to ambush the fake burglars, they would instead discover Harry and Draco's hiding spot.

Cursing his legs, he tried to quietly crawl and follow Draco to the direction of the manor. The damp grass muffled any sounds that they might have made, but their progress was so slow that Harry almost screamed in frustration.

He wanted to turn around and look at how close the guards had gotten but kept his eyes firmly on the destination ahead. It was like being at an incredibly high edge; knowing that if you looked down you would lose it and fall. If he turned and saw how close the guards were, his heart would surely give out and his legs would fail him altogether.

They stopped behind a tree. Between them and the manor now stood a small clearing. They couldn't cross it while the guards were hot on their tails. They saw a shadow creeping up the opposite wall, silent as a cat; Fred and George. At least they had safely made it.

.A loud crash sounded behind them as the guards finally jumped on the remote-control cars carrying the ginger wigs. It was too close for comfort and Harry moved even closer into Draco in his efforts to hide behind the tree with him.

He heard cries of dismay as the guards must have realized the trick they'd fallen for. He heard their shouts of commands and footsteps as they ran towards the manor to look for the real intruders.

Draco and Harry exchanged a look in the dark. Their job had just become a thousand times harder. There were at least three guards searching the area around them. Another five had run to check inside the manor and the rest of the guards were scattered around looking under bushes and behind trees. Draco tapped Harry on the shoulder hurriedly and pointed upwards.

"Climb," he mouthed at Harry.

Harry continued staring as Draco made hand gestures at him Draco took his hands and laced them into a net for Harry. He then gave him a hard look and put his foot on Harry's hands. Harry bit his lip and grimaced as Draco's wet shoes touched his hands. He tried not to crumble under Draco's weight as Draco climbed up onto the lowest branch using Harry's netted hands as a step ladder. Draco positioned himself on the branch and secured himself by wrapping his legs around it, then reached down towards Harry. They clasped hands and Harry tried very hard to pull himself up. Either he was too weak, Draco was worn out, or the branch was simply too high, because after a few minutes of struggling, Harry's feet were still firmly on the ground, though he was considerably sweatier than when they had started.

He shook his head defeatedly at Draco.

"Check behind that tree," a gruff voice called out, a few feet away from them.

Harry's eyes widened. He saw Draco getting ready to jump down; presumably with some notion of coming to his rescue. He waved his hands at Draco frantically to stop him and lifted his hands again. This time Draco caught both of his hands and pulled so hard that Harry was sure his arms would pop out of their sockets. In an adrenaline rush and with new-found strength, He put his feet on the trunk and started climbing up.

His foot was just out of eyes' view when a wiry guard dressed in dark garments turned the corner, holding a rifle.

Harry willed himself to become a stone on the branch next to Draco. He didn't dare breathe. He was aware of the sweat drops rolling down his body. What if one of them fell on the guard? Or worse, what if the mud stuck to the underside of his shoe dropped on the guard's head? It was as good as a mud pie, alerting everyone to their presence. One look up and they were discovered. As it was, they were quite hidden by all the small branches and thick leaves, although the branch they were on was not that much higher than the guard. If Harry were to lower his foot it would graze the guard's head.

He could feel fine tremors running through Draco. Harry had only had enough time to pull himself up on the branch and so he sat with his back resting on Draco's body and his feet pushed against the trunk of the tree. He couldn't see Draco and if he moved he was sure he would fall as he was not in a secure position. He knew all this and yet it was so hard not to reach his hand backwards towards Draco and comfort him.

His eyes were glued on the guard. He didn't look much of a guard. His hair was shoved under a dark beanie that was too big for his head and was folded up on itself many times over. His shoes in contrast were a bright orange or red colour. Harry wasn't sure what standards Lucius Malfoy was using when hiring his guards but this was certainly not what he had imagined. They looked more like thugs than professional guards. They were certainly cheaper; so for a greedy person like Lucius Malfoy it was certainly possible to hire thugs instead of any professionals that would have costed him much more.

Harry now understood why they had fallen for the wigs so easily. Professionals wouldn't have all abandoned their posts to chase a couple of ginger heads. This seemed the only time that Lucius's greed had actually worked in their favor.

Harry was now sure that the thug under them would never lift his head to check above him. He was never trained to actually look for people and guard anything. He was hired to stand there and look menacing with his rifle in order to scare away any unwelcome visitors.

"Nothing here," the wiry man called back to the one who had ordered him to check behind the tree. He turned around and left, his head lowered to the ground all the while.

Harry felt Draco exhale with relief. He slowly turned around to face Draco. To his surprise, he saw that the branch extended far enough to almost reach one of the manor's windows. He gestured at it; Draco turned and understood.

In a minute, they were both carefully crawling towards it. It was risky as the branches and leaves that had given them full coverage were now thinning out and disappearing the closer they got to the manor. As sure as Harry was about the incompetence of the guards, he certainly did not enjoy the prospect of playing with his life this way. He kept his eyes firmly ahead as he inched his way to the window, expecting a shout of their discovery at any second.

They stopped when the branch got too unstable to support their weight any longer. It wasn't as thick here and it was starting to bend downwards under them.

There was still quite a ways till the window. Harry was calculating the distance when he heard a shout and was so startled that he almost lost his balance.

"Hey! Hey! Stop right there!" A guard shouted with malice.

Harry turned towards the sound. He bit his lip and was about to shout back curses and throw himself at the window but was puzzled to see the guard standing about ten feet from them but pointing his gun in the opposite direction. He tried to make out the shape of whatever it was that the guard was shouting at. Oddly enough, it looked like a cat.

"It's just a cat, Jerry!" Shouted another guard, spitting on the ground. "You blind? Keep looking, idiot."

Draco grasped Harry's hand and they exchanged a shaky smile.

They were out in the open and if anyone were to look across the grounds they would be sure to spot them. They had to make a move now. Harry's heart dropped to see that the window was closed. But what had he been expecting?

To their mutual horror, the window started to open. They were still frozen by the time two ginger heads popped out of it. They were greeted with huge smiles and wild hand gestures beckoning them forward.

Draco soon made a jump for it, followed by Harry. The rich carpets covering the floor muffled the sound of their fall. Harry wasn't the sort of person to kiss the ground but if he had been the manor's carpet would have been covered in them.

"How did you know we were out there?" Draco asked quietly after he got his feet under him.

"We saw the car parked outside," whispered Fred, wiggling a finger in front of Draco's face, mock reprimanding him.

"But how did you know we were outside this exact window?" Asked Harry, keeping his voice down.

"It's the only branch that gets close to the manor," answered George quietly. "It was our plan B. Since you didn't have our Awesome Wig Plan, we figured you'll try this route."

"Did he just capitalize Awesome Wig Plan?" Harry asked at Draco, jerking his thumb at George.

Draco shushed them and moved to the corner of the wall to peek into the hallway. The window had landed them on the second floor, in a hallway all the way across where Lucius Malfoy's study room was situated. Getting past those thugs outside had been the easy part. Now they had to sneak their way unseen through hallways and past bedrooms with no tall trees or full bushes to protect them.

Harry took a deep breath and followed Draco's lead.


	20. Crisps and Cigarettes

The last time that Harry had been here, he'd only seen the entryway and the room Lucius had met them in. It had been a bare room; decorated that way to make visitors feel ill at ease, Harry suspected. In contrast, what he saw now could only be described as extravagant. The carpets laid across the floor were a rich, deep green colour, several golden ornaments hung from the walls, and whatever wasn't gold, was silver. There were also large tapestries, depicting otherworldly creatures. The lights were off but the moonlight streaming in through the window shone on some silvery unicorns in one tapestry and Harry was mesmerized by how alive and magical it looked.  
>He had to shake himself back to the present. Draco, Fred, and George had already turned the corner. He cautiously followed. As he turned into the next hallway, he could see pools of light seeping through some rooms ahead of them; occupied by maids and butlers. They'd have to be not only cautious of them but also of the few guards that had come into the manor searching for the alleged intruders.<br>"Here's the plan," whispered Fred as he stepped back into the secluded hallway and pulled the others with him. "We split up and each take a different route. This way our odds of success are higher."  
>"No," said Harry and Draco at the same time.<br>"I grew up in this house. I know where to avoid and how to get around. We stay together and you all follow me. The odds of success are higher my way."  
>"Oh, please. You know you want us to stay together just so you can throw yourself in the line of fire if anything happens," muttered George. "We're splitting up. You guys take this route and we'll take the other side."<br>"This is my house and my problems and I'll make the plans," Draco said furiously; as quietly as he could. His voice lost confidence as Fred and George simply ignore him and made their way to the other side.  
>He turned to Harry for some support. Harry shrugged. He couldn't argue with a sensible plan. Groups of two sneaking around had less chance of getting caught.<br>They started their agonizingly slow journey. Draco would stop Harry at times, listen for signs unbeknownst to Harry, or modify their route here and there. At one time they went up two floors and went along in a zigzag pattern for a while before coming back down. They'd turned so many corners and gone up and down so many times that Harry was sure he would never find the way back on his own. He wondered how Fred and George were fairing. They had a copy of the map that Draco had drawn, but Harry couldn't see that being terribly helpful in such a maze. Maybe they really would have had a better chance if they'd stuck together.  
>Harry's heart had just about had enough. They'd almost run into a few personnel at times before Draco pulled them back to hide behind statues or in small dark rooms and hallways. They heard the shouting and commotion of the guards, and as such it was easy to avoid them. Harry was still amazed at their luck regarding how incompetent the guards were. One might think that Lucius had wanted them to advance this far.<br>Harry stopped dead in his tracks, his mind working a million miles an hour. Draco went on for a while before he realized that Harry wasn't behind him and doubled back.  
>"Harry?" He murmured. "What is it?"<br>"In the past, did your father hire thugs or professional guards?" Harry asked frantically, almost forgetting to keep his voice down.  
>"Professional guards, of course," said Draco dismissively. "Only the best for the Malfoys. Why?"<br>"The guards tonight, they're not professional guards Draco."  
>"What do you mean?" Asked Draco, his eyes darting around, impatient to keep moving.<br>"Draco, listen," said Harry firmly, squeezing Draco's arm to grab his attention. "They were thugs. They didn't much work tracking us down, they abandoned their posts in a second, they're being loud as they search for us even now, letting us escape detection."  
>Draco looked at Harry, his eyes calculative.<br>"I think..." muttered Harry, gulping. "I think Lucius wants us to get to that room. I think it's a trap, Draco."  
>Draco cursed. "We have to tell Fred and George."<br>"No!" Harry stopped Draco. "We can't know if they're not already there. There's no way for us to intercept them; we don't know what route they're taking. Think, Draco. What kind of trap would your Father set for us?"  
>Draco stood there a minute, looking at his feet. "Cameras. He would want to catch the whole thing on cameras and use it as blackmail or turn us in with it."<br>Harry nodded. "So that means the real files aren't in that room. He wouldn't let us destroy the actual computer that has the only copy of those files."  
>"I know where they are," sighed Draco. "Let's go."<br>They climbed to the top floor. As they climbed up the last step, Draco pulled them back down.  
>"Guards up ahead," he warned. "Actual guards this time."<br>"What do we do?" Asked Harry, feeling a chill. "They're rotating. We find the blind spot and sneak through."  
>"Again, we're just two computer geeks. How do you suppose we fool guards with actual guns and training?"<br>"They might be well trained, but I'm the one who snuck around the manor for years. I know how to get around them. Trust me."  
>Crazy as it was, Harry did trust him. With his life. He nodded.<br>They sat there as Draco watched the guards and their movement pattern. At first it seemed random. Harry moved his head in and started watching with him. He named the guards using their most pronounced attributes and together with Draco they started writing the path that each was following. Soon they had designed the algorithm that would cover their tracks and in which order. Then they came up with the algorithm that would go through all the points that none of the guards had any vision of. It took them less than ten minutes but every minute felt like an eternity with Fred and George in danger.  
>The algorithm had been the easy part. Now it was time to execute the plan and Harry's body felt filled with lead. What if a guard decided to change his path and visit some other point? Humans weren't like computers; they weren't predictable.<br>Lucky for them, these guards were professionally trained to follow orders and patterns. They made it safely through the net of guards and arrived at the other end without anyone the wiser. Harry felt so giddy he was afraid he would lose it and laugh out loud. Draco squeezed his hands and whispered in his ear, "it's almost over."  
>Harry took a deep breath and followed Draco to the closed door ahead of them. Draco put his ear at the door as Harry scooted down to glance under the doorway. There was definitely someone in there. Harry could see the black blue lights of computer screens seeping under the doorway and Draco nodded that he could hear noise from the inside.<br>They retreated a few steps.  
>"What's the plan?" Asked Harry.<br>"We walk in," said Draco.  
>"You're joking."<br>"Absolutely not. We walk in."  
>"And if there are more guards inside?"<br>"There are no guards."  
>"How do you know that?"<br>"Father doesn't allow anyone else inside the control room."  
>"Your F-Father is in there?" Stammered Harry. "And you want us to just walk in?"<br>"What else can we do? He's not coming out. I have to confront him."  
>"You will do no such thing. We will find a way to drag him out."<br>"Harry, there's no point. He already knows we're here. He's tracked our progress through the cameras."  
>The blood drained from Harry's face. "Then why didn't he notify any guards?"<br>"Because he wants to confront me too."  
>Harry bit his lower lip. He shook his head. "No, Draco. That doesn't add up. Your Father loves to hide behind his cameras. He leaves the confrontations to his minions. If he knew we were coming up here he would have sent guards to stop us. Let's just try luring him out of that room and continuing this 'covert' operation or what's left of it as secretly as we still can."<br>Draco stood there looking at the closed door as if willing it to let him see his Father through it.  
>"Alright. Let's do it your way. What do you suggest?"<br>"I don't know yet. But let's not stand out in the open like this. Is there another room we can wait in?"  
>"Another room…" Draco trailed off. "That's it! Come on."<br>A startled Harry followed Draco to the adjacent room. As Draco started opening the window, he thought maybe he had lost his mind.  
>"What are you doing?" He asked.<br>"We can enter the room using the window. Father always leaves it open to smoke."  
>"Your Father smokes?" Asked Harry, shocked.<br>"Is that what is baffling you in this whole situation?" Asked Draco with an amused smile.  
>"Well, no, but, your Father smokes?" Harry asked again.<br>Draco smirked. "He also binges on Crisps. Coming?"  
>"Yeah," said Harry, moving towards the window. "Do you smoke?"<br>"I think you would have known that about me since we're living together, but no Harry, I do not smoke," replied Draco, still amused. "I stay away from anything that man enjoys."  
>"Good," said Harry. He went to the window and saw how far the drop to the ground was. "Not good."<br>"I can do this by myself, Harry," offered Draco. "It's my fight. You can wait for me here."  
>"No," objected Harry, putting a hand on the window sill. "It's our fight."<p> 


	21. Candy and Death

"Alright, so what's the plan?" Asked Harry, looking down from the window to see how dead he would be if he fell.

very dead, his mind provided.

"Do you still have your switchblade?" Asked Draco.

Harry patted his pocket. "Yes, but I still don't understand what we need these for."

"For an emergency such as this. We'll be climbing through the window and crossing to the adjacent room. Father won't simply comply to our wishes. That's where the switchblades come in."

"Surely you're not being serious," said a pale looking Harry. "We're better than common criminals. And what is the point of switchblades against an army of guards? He only needs to shout for help and they'll all come rushing in."

Draco shook his head. "I have a plan. Just follow my lead."

Harry gulped. Walking in danger willingly was one thing. But giving the control of the situation to Draco so completely, trusting him so deeply, was hard. He was used to making rash, bold moves, but here they were committing serious crimes against a very powerful man. He breathed and nodded. "I will kill you if we don't come out of this in one piece. It's not just our heads, Fred and George are in this mess because of us."

"You don't need to remind me," said Draco gravely. "I remember very well. Now, come on. We can't waste any more time."

Harry watched helplessly as Draco started to climb through the window. He remembered a time when his life wasn't so complicated. He remembered sharing a room with Ron in their small house with orange walls in the living room and birds that were too loud. He remembered a time when his biggest worry was his lunch. Now he was contemplating following a man that used to be his tutor but now was his lover out a fifth-story window to threaten his Father and retrieve blackmail files.

He took a deep breath and reminded himself of his reasons for being here. Yes, his life was a thousand times more complicated; but at the same time he'd never felt so alive and happy. He'd never had a reason to get out of bed in the morning. His life might be complicated now, but at least it was a life he looked forward to living. If they failed tonight, that considerably damaged his chances of being able to stay with Draco. Although he'd never admitted it to himself, he really didn't want to lose Draco.

Before Draco disappeared through the window, Harry pulled him forwards and kissed him tenderly. Draco blinked for a moment, then returned the kiss. When Harry pulled away, Draco smiled and tucked a stray hair behind Harry's ear. "It'll be alright," he reassured, and was gone.

Harry climbed out after him. He wasn't sure that he could rely on his knobbly knees to keep him on the very thin edge outside the window that ran around the whole house. It was a cold night and the wind blew rather hard this high up. Harry tried not to look down as he gripped anything his hands could find and prayed that his feet wouldn't slip. It took an equal amount of courage and strength to edge his way next to Draco all the way to the next room. The window seemed impossibly far, and more than a few times Harry was sure he would slip and fall. He imagined what would happen if Draco lost his balance and fell onto him. They would both topple over to their tragic death. He'd never stared death in the face so closely before. It was terrifying.

By the time his hand rested on their designated window, his feet were weak and shaky and his heart was drumming in his ears. The first thing he saw was a silver ashtray on the window sill. There seemed to be a snake carved in the centre of it. It had emerald eyes that seemed to be starting Harry down. Along its body rested five or six cigarette butts. Draco's prediction had been right. A candy wrapper lay there as well, making rustling sounds as the wind blew in through the window. Harry felt much like the candy wrapper; helpless and ignorant towards what his future would bring.

Harry watched Draco take a careful look around the room before climbing inside. He followed suit, not wishing to spend any more time than necessary out there on the edge. He was expecting to be faced with Lucius Malfoy right away, but instead all he saw were small screens connected to security cameras, showing different parts of the manor. Draco's attention was on the data server situated by the wall at the far end of the room.

"Where's your Father?" Hissed Harry, not liking the situation at all.

"Hello, Mister Potter," said a cold voice from a dark corner of the room.

Harry gasped. Lucius stood there in his expensive suit and simply smiled at them.

"I went through the trouble of finding out everything I could about you. I'm sad to say that even if you had been a girl, you still wouldn't have been a suitable match for my Son."

"Hello, Father," said Draco, interrupting him. "I was hoping to see you here."

"Come to apologize, have you? Want us to take you back? Have you come bearing gifts in the form of past associates, delivering them to me to show me that you are serious about coming back into the family and marrying a decent girl?" Asked Lucius hopefully.

Draco paused for a second. "Yes, Father," he said evenly.

Harry looked at Draco incredulously. He searched Draco's eyes, looking for some evidence to the contrary. His hand was hovering above his pocket, ready to take out his switchblade whenever Draco did. This must be part of the plan.

"Ah, my Son, I see some sense has finally blossomed in you," Lucius said with a pleased sigh. Some suspicion entered his eyes. "How do I know you're not lying to me again?"

"I have brought you my boy toy," said Draco. "Isn't that evidence of my honesty?"

"That proves nothing. You could simply be here for this pendant," said Lucius, holding Draco's USB in his palm as it dangled from his neck. "The last remaining copy of my blackmail files."

Draco looked concerned. "Father, why are you only keeping one copy of the files? What if something should happen to it?"

"I see that you really are back to your old self, Draco," said Lucius with a pleased smile. "I have learned my lesson. Keeping them in any computer is too dangerous. Around my neck, they cannot be stolen, lost, or damaged. I will make you another copy so that you can wear it around your neck as well. It is about time that you entered the family business. We will start with this associates of yours. I have the video of them breaking into our manor right here on these computers. It will be a suitable first mission for you, to keep them in check. You can decide their punishment on your own."

"Thank you, Father," said Draco, bowing his head.

"Very well," said Lucius, coming forward to sit on an armchair placed in front of the screens. Confusion crossed his eyes. "But tell me, why did you enter through the window? I was waiting for you by the door. I knew you were helping me trap your friends because you made sure they pass all the cameras instead of following the route without them; the one that we always use ourselves. But why the window? You knew I would be here, expecting you."

"It was a ploy to fool this boy toy of mine, Father," said Draco cruelly. "I wanted to lead him to believe that I was helping him destroy the blackmail files instead of bringing him into a trap. I wanted to see the look on his face when he realized the truth."

Draco turned to Harry with his cruel smile, looking at Harry as if looking at an experiment. Lucius looked approvingly at Draco before turning to Harry with his own smile dripping with malice.

"I never had a doubt that Draco would come back to me," he told Harry. "My blood flows through his veins. He was never yours."

Harry looked at Draco desperately. He was pleading with his eyes, begging Draco to tell him it was just a part of the plan, that it couldn't possibly be true. This wasn't the real Draco. He knew the real Draco. He had to believe that. He had to trust him.

"See, Father? He's trying to believe that this is part of the plan, that I am still on his side," said Draco with a smirk.

Lucius laughed freely and viciously. His laughter cut through Harry like a knife. Tears started pooling in his eyes and his clenched fists started to shake. He wouldn't believe it. He couldn't believe it. He remembered how angry Draco had been when the flash drive had been taken. He genuinely hated his Father. He would never turn his back on Harry. He bit his lower lip as he stood there under the humiliation, cursing Draco left and right in his head.

I will kill him after we get out of here, he told himself. He tried to shut off the voice of doubt in his head. Draco would never do this to him.

"Quite an entertaining notion," admitted Lucius, after the last echoes of his laughter died out. "But it's quite late. Time to put an end to this. Your Mother will be pleased to see that you are back with us tomorrow."

"What are you planning to do with them, Father?" Asked Draco, a hardness in his eyes.

"Those two ginger nuisances are already in the custody of the guards; we have them on camera, smashing the computer in my study. It's time for your boy toy to join them," said Lucius. He turned to call out for the guards.

In an instant, Draco's switchblade was out and pressed against Lucius's throat.

"Make one sound," he whispered savagely.

Lucius looked at Draco wildly.

"You stupid old cockroach," Draco went on. "I've been waiting so long for this. I can finally stamp on you and crush your disgusting black body."

Anger boiled in Lucius's eyes. Before Harry could warn him, Lucius pushed Draco to the ground and came at Harry. Before Harry could do so much as blink, two strong hands had wrapped themselves around his neck.

"You've ruined my life!" Lucius spat in his face. "What kind of spell have you put on him, huh? I will kill you!"

Harry was helpless as Lucius started shaking and throttling him. He saw the blurry shape of Draco trying to pry Lucius loose but it was useless. The edges of his vision started to go black. He was gagging for air. He tried kicking Lucius away but his body was so weak and Lucius was so strong. He couldn't breathe. He was going to suffocate.

He knew he should be scared or angry, but all he felt was the relief of Draco having been on his side after all. Lucius might succeed in killing him, but they were the winners here.


	22. Butterscotch Toast and New Beginnings

There was a sickening, sharp sound. The grip around Harry's neck loosened. He bent over, clutching at his neck, trying to breathe. There was the sound of a thump; he felt something heavy hit the ground near him. He had no idea what was going on around him, he was only trying to gulp down as much air as he could. His body felt light and his head was throbbing from the lack of oxygen. He could hear the sounds of glass shattering.  
>He stood there, shaking, and feeling grateful to be alive. By the time the world stopped spinning around him, Draco was done destroying the monitors and data server. He was holding onto the hard drive. Harry looked up at him. It still felt like someone's hands were pushing down on his neck. He kept rubbing it, trying to make the feeling go away. He remembered the certainty he'd felt about his life ending. Why was he still breathing?<br>He looked down and saw Lucius lying on the ground. How had Draco been able to overpower him? His brain was still fuzzy. He could smell something strange, but he wasn't sure what it was. He looked at Lucius's body again and for the first time saw the pool of blood under him. He looked at himself; there was blood everywhere. On his hands, his clothes, the walls.  
>"You-you stabbed him," he croaked.<br>Draco looked down at his Father's immobile body. His hands were shaking. There was a shocked expression on Lucius's face, as if he'd never expected his own Son to stab him in the back. Draco had blood on him as well and it stood out especially because of how pale he was looking. In seconds, he turned green, leaned over and threw up on the same chair that the living Lucius had been perching on only minutes before.  
>"We have to go," Draco said as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "We've been loud. The guards will be here soon."<br>"I'm not going back out that window," Harry croaked again. His voice was raspy from the force it had been under. It made him feel sick. He wasn't too far from emptying the contents of his stomach either.  
>"Neither am I. We'd both fall to our deaths, in this state. We'll take our chances with the guards."<br>Harry followed Draco in a daze. Lucius was dead. Draco had killed him. Somehow it had never seemed possible to Harry for someone to really get hurt in this scheme. It had all seemed like hide and seek; a playful game of pretend. They'd passed all the obstacles swimmingly; hadn't been spotted by any guards. But now it was real. How could they ever get away with this?  
>He stumbled after Draco through the halls. A part of his brain was aware of Draco's shouts and commands to hide from gunfire. But the other part was lost, not understanding or taking in anything. He watched as Draco stabbed a guard, turned him and used him as a shield to get them downstairs. He looked down as a bullet grazed his leg. He didn't feel it. Was that right?<br>He saw Draco holding up his arm with his other hand, blood dripping from it. He'd been shot. He looked at Draco as they ran down the halls, the pain in his leg nothing more than a nagging undertone in the back of his head. More guards were stabbed, more shots were fired. Harry felt helpless and a burden. Draco, with one working hand, was getting them out of here.  
>Why had they ever come here? They were children, playing adult games. He'd been naive, thinking that everything would go smoothly without anyone getting hurt. He'd never thought people would get hurt, let alone die, because of him. He looked blankly at the dead bodies they were leaving behind. People with hopes and dreams and futures and loved ones. None of them deserved to die.<br>When Harry was sure he would faint from the blood loss, they finally got to the car and jumped inside. The doors behind them opened as Fred and George followed suit. Draco started the car and they sped off. He was aware of Fred and George shouting at Draco about dead guards, but he felt his consciousness getting further and further from his reach. It was slipping away and he made no effort to hold on to it.  
>He was aware of the car being emptied of Fred and George as silence engulfed them. When they reached home, he sat in the car looking at Draco blankly. They'd left here just a few hours ago, feeling whole and being victims. Now they were shattered by the murders they had committed. He wasn't naive enough to blame Draco for this; Draco had only been trying to save his life. Their love was toxic; it was burning down everything around them.<br>They changed out of their clothes and washed the blood off. Draco's arm had been grazed worse than Harry's leg was, but at least he hadn't been shot like Harry had suspected. They patched themselves up as best as they could using the first-aid kit that they had at home. Draco put the hard drive and the USB that he must have taken off of Lucius in the microwave. The sight of it brought images of Lucius's shocked expression to Harry's mind. They microwaved the hard drive and stood there staring at their hands. They had scrubbed so hard that the skin was irritated and red; red like the blood that had stained them. The stain would never wear off; it was ingrained in their souls.  
>They went back to the car and drove to the lake in the next city. Neither of them uttered a word. What was there to say? By the time they reached the lake, the sun was starting to rise. They had stuffed their bloodied clothes into the microwave and now threw it into the lake together.<br>"What is even the point?" Harry murmured. "Our DNA is all over that room, that house. The guards that are still alive are witnesses that will testify against us. What is the point of getting rid of our clothes?"  
>"So we don't have to look at them anymore," Draco uttered. His eyes were as blank as Harry's entire being felt.<br>"The blackmail is over. We saved those people. Our job is done," Draco said hollowly.  
>"I don't feel much of a savior right now," Harry muttered. "Let's go home."<br>"And wait for what? To be arrested?" Said Draco, a fire in his eyes. "No. I refuse to pay anymore for what that man has done."  
>"He didn't do anything," Harry said, breaking down. He crouched down, sobbing. "We killed him."<br>"He was going to kill you!" Draco shouted. "And get away with it!"  
>"Maybe it would have been better," Harry shouted back.<br>Draco pulled Harry up and slapped him. "Don't you ever say that."  
>Harry touched his cheek, stunned. He looked at Draco through the tears in his eyes. If the situation were reversed, he would have done the same. He would have made sure that Lucius let Draco go at all costs. The thought brought him back to reality. Very bad men had had to die tonight, but that didn't mean that they had deserved death.<br>"We have to go to the police," Harry said. "We have to explain it to them. They will understand."  
>"Are you insane? Why would they believe us?" Draco retorted. "All they will see is the break in, the murder, the burglary, and the vandalism. They have witnesses against us. They won't care if our reasons were justified."<br>"They didn't deserve to die, Draco!" Harry screamed. "We took their lives! We have to pay for that!"  
>"We will, for the rest of our lives," said Draco, sounding broken and defeated. "But not here. We're getting out of this goddamn place. We should have left a long time ago."<br>"We can't go on the run!" Harry argued hysterically. "Our lives are here, our friends! We have jobs here, a home!"  
>"And all of that will be taken away when we go to jail for what we've done, can't you see that?" Draco said as he took Harry's shoulders and shook him.<br>"It's no less than we deserve!" Harry replied angrily, breaking himself loose.  
>"I'm not going to jail for self-defense. That's what it was, Harry, it was self-defense. But we can't prove that, all those guards will testify against it. There is no other option. We have to leave this place."<br>"This is my home," Harry whispered.  
>"No," Draco took his hand. "I am your home. And you are mine."<br>Harry looked up into Draco's eyes.  
>"Run away with me, Harry," Draco murmured, leaning closer.<br>"It will never be the same," Harry said, taking a step back.  
>"No, but we'll be together. That's what Lucius didn't want. Don't let him win. Don't let him come between us."<br>Harry dropped his hands out of Draco's hold. "Take me back home."  
>Draco sighed. "Okay. Fine. I'm tired of arguing with you. You want us to spend the rest of our lives in jail, fine!"<br>"We'll pack and take the next train out of here," said Harry, looking at the skyline.  
>Draco stumbled and looked back at Harry.<br>"You're my home," Harry echoed.  
>"And you're mine," Draco replied.<br>They held hands throughout the drive back. Harry felt sick, he felt sick that he was running away from what they'd done. He was learning things about himself that he'd never known before. He'd never been the kind of person to run away from the consequences of his actions. And yet, here he was, running away from possibly the worst crime there was. He was doing it for love, for the love of a man that now he couldn't bring himself to look at because all he saw were the images of bloody hands and all he felt was disgust and shame.  
>He wanted to ask, how do we get past this? But the words caught in his throat. Those people were dead. Their families would be devastated and if they ran away they would deprive them of the justice they deserved. And here he was, worrying that they would never get past what they'd done. Before they reached home, they withdrew all their money.<br>They packed the bare essentials and shredded all their IDs. Harry swallowed as he looked at the butterscotch toast on the cabinet. It had been a day since they'd eaten but he didn't think he could ever eat again. Even the thought of it was enough to make him nauseous. They took the car back to the rental place and then took the bus to the train station. They had two backpacks. Only Draco had packed his laptop. Harry couldn't bring himself to even look at his laptop. It was what had started it all. If he hadn't been in this course, if he hadn't had the interest he had in computers, none of this would have happened.  
>At the same time, all those people would have still been under blackmail. It wasn't a justification for what they'd done or a fact to make them feel better, but it was enough to keep Harry from total break down.<br>Draco bought the train tickets. They sat down to wait for their train. Harry didn't ask where they were going; it didn't matter. His life felt over. He had to wear the skin of a new person. A person who lived with murder on their conscience.  
>Draco took his hand and laced their fingers together. He looked up at Draco with a pain in his stomach.<br>"I am still the same person, Harry," Draco said knowingly. "And you're still Harry. We did what we had to in order to survive. It's over, it's done. We can start our lives over, away from this mess. Please. Give us a chance, away from the corruption."  
>Harry felt something inside him soften. Yes, this was still Draco. The Draco that loved him and protected him fiercely. They would have to work hard to atone for what they did, but they still had each other. He wouldn't let anything like last night happen again. They would start over, start fresh. Their story here had reached its final chapter. The Harry and Draco who had lived here were dead now, but their memory lived inside them. He would be the phoenix, rising from his own ashes, and lifting Draco with him. Draco had held him up throughout the events of last night. He couldn't abandon him now.<br>He squeezed Draco's hand as they got up and boarded the train.  
>"We'll get through this," he said quietly.<br>"We will," said Draco, holding onto Harry's hand as hard as he could.  
>The train sped away, taking them to an unknown location to start their new lives.<p>

The End


End file.
